


Tales We'll Tell

by jsmulligan



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Loss, Short One Shot, grimoire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2019-06-19 12:19:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 34,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15509721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jsmulligan/pseuds/jsmulligan
Summary: Who is the Speaker?  What set Eris on a collision course with a Hive god?  What happens if Cayde-6 gets left alone for too long?  Cayde-6 vs Lord Shaxx in the Crucible!  Lord Saladin suffers a loss.  A collection of one-shots and side stories. Mix of stories focusing on OCs and canon characters.





	1. Rebirth

Rebirth

Somewhere in what used to be the southern portion of the United States of America. 5 years prior to the events of the Destiny main campaign.

The air was still and stifling. Titan Claney Beamard stood watching as a small group of civilians loaded into a transport ship. Three days ago, the Tower had received a distress call from a small settlement in the area that had come under attack by a band of Fallen. These people had managed to eke out a living in the years after the collapse, somehow avoiding notice of the alien scavengers. A Hunter had discovered the settlement years ago, and they had declined her offer of an escort to the Last City. They were determined to make it on their own, so the Hunter had wished them luck and left behind an emergency communication device. It seems as though their luck finally ran out.

Claney had been part of a strike team comprised of himself, another Titan named Iniko Tosia, and a Hunter named Jarus Corbin that had been sent to assist. They had barely arrived in time. As their ships screamed through the sky on approach, they saw the Fallen breach the ramshackle wall the settlers had built around their town. The humans had obviously put up quite a fight leading to the break in their defenses, as Claney could see a surprising number of Dreg and Vandal corpses scattered around the perimeter. Even at that moment, Dregs were dropping as they worked to pry at, and widen, the hole they had made. The townspeople had taken many casualties as well and it was clear they could not hold out much longer.  
The three Guardian’s transmatted into the chaos. Claney dropped into the middle of the town’s defenses and immediately began taking heavy fire from the invading Fallen. Shields barely holding, he began firing his heavy machine gun into the breach. The resulting shrieks from the Fallen brought cheers from the harried defenders. The Hunter and the other Titan came down outside the city on the other side of the enemy force, presenting a second front for the Fallen to worry about.  
The new arrival threw the Fallen into disarray, but it lasted only a few moments. A Captain in their ranks was able to rally its troops, regrouping away from the breach, using the wall to protect them from the more numerous defenders while turning to face the smaller force that had appeared outside. Vandals with wire rifles spread out in an attempted to flank the two Guardians, firing from multiple angles while Dregs attempted to find cover behind rocks and damaged vehicles to take potshots at them.

Iniko grinned inside her helmet and summoned a lightning grenade. Throwing it as hard as she could, it sailed past the huddled Fallen, sticking to the town wall and blasting lightning back in the direction it had come. Several enemy fighters were thrown forward as the Arc energy lanced into them.

“Ha! How about that ‘nade?” she shouted to Jarus.

“Yes, yes, very nice. Now how about we kill the rest of them before celebrating.”

Jarus took aim with his sniper rifle, picking off several of the Vandals before having to take cover himself. Arc bolts peppers the trees, ground, and rubble around them. Iniko focused on the Dregs, trying to take them out as they leaned out of cover to shoot. A three round burst from her pulse rifle caught one Dreg in the head, puffs of ether escaping as it fell dead.

Claney emerged from the breach, now having switched to his scout rifle. It kicked in his hand as he fired several shots at nearby Fallen. This distracted them enough that Iniko was able to charge forward, closing the gap. The Captain shouted a warning to his Dregs, but he was too slow. Iniko leapt forward, gathering Arc light to her on the way down, slamming into the ground in the middle of the Fallen. The shockwave of her Fist of Havoc spread outward, lifting the Fallen caught within its range, flinging them aside as they died. Simultaneously, Jarus activated his Golden Gun, firing pure Solar light at the remaining Vandals, bringing them down.

The threat neutralized, the Guardians stepped back through the breach to aid the remaining population. There were cheers and thanks, of course, though it was also apparent that the display of power had also made some of the people wary of the three. Humans weren’t supposed to be able to summon lightning in their fists or magically producing flaming weapons. They had all heard stories, of course, but actually seeing it in action was a something different. Some of the unease lessened when Jarus removed his helmet, his dark skin and easy grin clearly as human as anyone else gathered there.

Over the next couple days, the Guardians had helped repair the town and the breach in the wall. The offer to move people to the Last City was made again, and this time many of the townspeople had decided to accept the offer to be relocated. A transport ship was called and arrived on the third day. For those that wanted to stay, the transport dropped off food stuffs and weapons. 

The transport lifted into the air and turned east, beginning the long flight back to the Tower. Iniko left immediately after, while Jarus has to extract himself from a small crowd of women who seemed very sad to see him go. Claney prepared to join them in orbit, when a glint of light caught his eye. Something metallic was moving near the settlement wall.

Claney drew his weapon, a scout rifle he’d won in an Iron Banner event the previous year. Keeping an eye for any other motion, he cautiously approached the place that he had seen the flash. He relaxed suddenly when he discovered the source. It was a Ghost, flitting near the wall. It seemed be searching for something.

“Hello, little one,” he said, but the Ghost offered no response. Instead, it turned suddenly, swaying back and forth a few times, before darting away. Curious, Claney followed the small, star-shaped object as it crossed a field and disappeared into a stand of trees.

“Should I be jealous?” the voice of his Ghost, Elgan, questioned in his coms.

“Quiet, you,” the Titan replied, “I just want to see where it’s going.”

“A Ghost out here, alone? There’s only one thing it could be doing, trying to find its Guardian.”

“There are Fallen nearby. Not exactly a safe place to be poking about,” Claney said, glancing around.

“There are Fallen everywhere,” was the retort. “If I had stopped searching due to their patrols, you’d still be dead.”

As if on cue, a Fallen called from somewhere nearby. A hunting call. They’d seen something. Claney was willing to guess it was the Ghost. An electronic trill sounded from just further up in the trees. As quickly as he could move through the underbrush, Claney crashed his way forward, concerned for the fate of the little Ghost. The Traveler had produced the Ghosts with its dying breath, and they’d already lost so many. He’d die before he let the Fallen kill another one.

They came to a stop when they found the ruin of an old house, obviously abandoned for decades. Most of the structure had collapsed, and vegetation had over grown what remained. Something about this scene seemed to trigger a memory, a sudden feeling of familiarity, but Claney pushed it away. Light flickered inside, and Claney got a glimpse of the Ghost, it’s shell expanded, light emanating out of it, directed to something out of his field of view.

The Fallen called out again, closer now. Claney ducked into the ruin of the home just as the Ghost collapsed back in on itself and let out a worried sound. Looking at the ground, the Titan saw the body the Ghost had revived.

There lay a red-haired human girl, no older than 13 or 14. She was clothed in a body suit, but the Ghost had not given her armor, nor had it completed the revive process, as she was not breathing. Elgan materialized near Claney and scanned her.  
“Why did you stop?” he asked the other Ghost.

“She’s too young,” the other Ghost replied in a masculine voice that sounded very young itself. “She can’t be a Guardian. What do I do?”

“You’ll finish reviving her before the Fallen find us, we’ll take her back to the Tower, and then figure it out from there,” Claney snapped. The Ghost bobbed up and down in the familiar nodding motion, then opened his shell again, bathing the figure in light. 

She coughed suddenly and sat upright, blue eyes darting around in panic. When they saw Claney, she screamed and scrambled back from him as quickly as she could before she collided with a wall. Her Ghost tried to move in to introduce itself, and she swatted it out of the air. Claney knelt down, bringing himself to her level in an attempt to appear less threatening. It did not work. Reaching around frantically, the girl grabbed a chunk of the crumbled wall and threw it at him.

“Okay, you need to quiet down and stop doing things like that,” the Titan said. Remembering Jarus and the townspeople, Claney scooted away from her and brought his hands to his helmet. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to take my helmet off. Please don’t throw anything at my face.”

He removed the helmet and set it on the ground, revealing fair skin and close-cropped red hair, almost the same shade as hers. He tried giving the most reassuring smile that he could. The girl seemed to calm down a little, and she looked at him curiously.

“My name is Claney,” he said to her calmly and quietly, “Claney Beamard. I’m a Guardian from the Tower. I’m here to help you. I know things don’t make any sense to you at the moment, but they will soon. Right now, we need to think about getting out of here, otherwise some bad people are going to come. Will you come with me?”

Claney offered his hand to the girl, but she shook her head, pushing back against the wall as hard as she could. He sighed and lowered his head before grabbing his helmet and rising to his feet. Leaving the girl’s Ghost to try to calm her, he turned and walked through the crumbling doorway.

“I wouldn’t trust our luck enough to assume the Fallen didn’t hear that scream,” his Ghost said through internal coms. “We’re going to have to move very soon.”

“What, just transmat her with no warning, rush to get her to the Tower, and have a panicked teenage girl destroy my ship or throw things at me as I try to fly? I’ll pass.”

“We might not have much choice.”

The Titan sighed again and turned to reenter the building. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed an object flying through the air toward him. The shock grenade landed at his feet and he dove through the door quickly, rolling as he hit the ground, coming up to one knee and drawing his scout rifle in one smooth motion. 

“Fallen!” Elgan announced unnecessarily.

Claney located a Dreg at the tree line, presumably the one who threw the grenade. One squeeze of the trigger and its head disappeared, leaving behind a puff of ether. Almost immediately, a squadron of Shanks appeared, firing arc blasts as they emerged. Claney took two quick steps to move closer to the girl. Concentrating on the Void, he flung out his arms, putting a Ward of Dawn up to cover the both of them.

“Ghost, get some armor on that kid,” he shouted. The Ghost bobbed again, quickly breaking down portions of the ruins and fabricating some basic armor around her. While it covered her, Claney stepped out of his bubble to return fire at the shanks. Each exploded in a shower of sparks and metal after a few shots. Emptying the clip at them, Claney started to reload when something hit him hard from behind.

While he had focused on the Shanks, two stealth Vandals had slipped around behind him. The nearest was bringing its swords down at his head as he turned to face them. He brought is scout rifle up quickly to block the cut. It deflected the blow, but shattered the rifle.

“Elgan, get me something else quickly!” Claney shouted to his Ghost. Dropping the broken weapon, he swung his fist, striking the Vandal in the side of its head. Tapping into the Void again, he swung once more, this time the contact released the energy, causing the Vandal to howl in pain as it disintegrated. Another scream sounded, and Claney looked to see the second Vandal advancing on the girl who was throwing anything she could get her hands on at the alien while crab-walking backward.  
“I’ve got something,” Elgan said, and Claney held out his hand. A shotgun materialized in his hand and he brought it to bear quickly.

“Hey!” he yelled at the Vandal, drawing its attention before letting loose a stream of buckshot. Two close-range blasts took the second alien down. Claney turned to the girl and held out his hand again. This time she took it and he raised her to her feet, handing her the shotgun.

“We don’t have much time, so I’m going to say this quick. Whoever you were in your past life, I’m going to guess you weren’t a soldier like most Guardians. To be honest, I don’t think I was either. Regardless, your Ghost should have given you some basic knowledge in the revive process. Do you know how to use this gun?”

The girl nodded her head quickly, shifting the gun around in her hands to hold it properly. Arc bolts struck the structure around them or fizzled against the Titan’s Ward while he spoke.

“Good. Now, you see this bubble around us? It’s called a Ward of Dawn. It will stop any shots or anything they throw at you. You stay inside it. If one of them comes in, you shoot them. You’ll have five shots before you need to reload. These are ammo synths,” he held out some green and white objects. “Activating them creates ammo for the gun. I’ll leave some here if you need them. Elgan, give me another weapon and then call for the ship.”

The Titan held out his hand and his Ghost transmatted in an auto rifle. Giving the girl what he hoped was a reassuring pat on the arm, he stepped out of the Ward of Dawn to take on the rest of the Fallen force. The girl gripped the shotgun, watching intently as the armored man leapt into action. All around, the Fallen fell one by one, either shot by the auto rifle or taken out by a grenade. She saw several shots hit him as well, and he staggered, but never stopped moving until the last of the attackers was down.

“We need to get out of here before more of them show up. Will you come with me?” the Titan asked as he returned to her side and the Ward of Dawn winked out of existence. The girl nodded. Claney braced for the familiar feel of the transmat at it transported the two of them to his ship, a Phaeton class ship he had named Lost Days. Once aboard, he removed his helmet again. She watched him do it and then reached up, unfastening her own and removing it. There was still uncertainty behind her blue eyes, but most of the fear had faded.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

“Yes. Thank you,” she replied, glancing around at the cramped interior of the ship, eyes taking in every detail.  
“Good. Like I said before, my name is Claney, and I am a Guardian. I’m going to take you somewhere safe, okay?”

“Okay,” she said with another nod.

“I know things are strange, and I bet you’ve probably noticed that your memory is fuzzy at best. Your Ghost, that little spiky guy floating right there, he’ll talk to you about what is happening while we fly to the Tower. Do you at least remember your name?”  
“My name…” the girl thought for a moment, her face twisted in confusion. “My name… is Celeste.”

“Well, Celeste, it’s nice to meet you,” Claney stated, settling into the pilot seat of the ship. He set course for the Tower and began the long flight home.

Celeste settled in on the bunk toward the back, and her Ghost flittered over to her. Its shell twisting and turning as it thought about the best way to approach her. It had nearly figure out what to say when the girl took the initiative.

“Hello,” she said, reaching up a hand and tapping her finger against one of its edges. “So you’re a Ghost?”

“Hello, Guardian” it said in its soft, boyish voice, “yes, I am a Ghost. Your Ghost. I’ve been searching for you for a very long time. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. Now… tell me everything,” she said eagerly.


	2. The Speaker

The Speaker

Voice 1: (In deep, serious tones) “There has always been a Speaker.”

Voice 2: Wait, what do you mean by ‘always’? Are we talking ever since the Traveler first showed up? Like, there was a guy standing there on Mars with white robes when the Ares One mission approached the Traveler?

Voice 1: No, no, it just means since the Traveler went quiet.

Voice 2: But it never talked to begin with.

Voice 1: Well, right, but…

Voice 2: So it would have needed a Speaker then, right?

Voice 1: Well, maybe. I don’t know. All I know is what they say. “There has always been a Speaker…”

Voice 2: Was it the same guy?

Voice 3: He’d have to be super, super old.

Voice 2: And that was before (in deep, serious tones) “…human lifespan tripled…” or the Traveler even met humans, so he couldn’t be human.

Voice 3: Ohh, maybe he’s a squid-face like Xur!

Voice 2: And that’s why he never takes his mask off!

Voice 3: And why Xur likes to show up near his office!

Voice 1: The Speaker isn’t a squid face!

Voice 3: How do you know?

Voice 2: Yeah, have you ever seen him take his mask off?

Voice 1: Well, no, but…

Voice 3. Squid face.

(Silence.)

Voice 2: What if he’s worse than a squid face? What if he is something scarier, with super sharp teeth?

Voice 3: Or no face at all. Like… like a black hole. And he eats the Motes of Light Guardians give him? Just sucks them right up.

Voice 1: The Speaker is not a squid face. He’s not a sharp fanged monster or a black hole. The Speaker is… well, he’s the Speaker.

(Silence.)

Voice 3: (Whispered) I’m gonna pull his mask off.


	3. Broken

Broken

Zillah Arvid fumed as the door slammed in her face. She resisted the urge to pound her fists against its metal surface and turned away, letting out a scream of anguish and frustration. Rage built up inside her, Void energy turning the world into a purple haze and demanding to be let out to destroy it. Grabbing a guardrail, she closed her eyes tight and tried to force herself to calm down. The urge to lash out at everything around her passed, and Zillah opened her eyes. Casting one last spiteful look at the large metal door, the Warlock stalked down the metal walkway and headed in the direction of her ship.

How? How could they refuse to even see her? She had heard the call. True, it had been faint. An echo of a whisper lost in a crashing sea, but she had heard. She heard the voice of the Queen calling the Awoken to return. The same way she had felt drawn to the Tower and the Last City after her rebirth, though that had been louder, a desperate cry drowning out every other noise. Maybe it had covered too many other voices. Perhaps she had answered the call too late, had already been disregarded before she had a chance to answer.

No other Guardian had ever spoken of a call. No other Guardian had ever mentioned feeling compelled to seek the Awoken. Now, however, it was the only call she heard. The other voices had grown silent, she felt no connection to them any longer. Had she alone heard, or did they simply ignore that call, treat it as white noise? It would explain the disdain on every face here. Explain why the Queen of the Awoken seemed to look on Awoken Guardians as lesser things, because she believed they had chosen another voice to heed. 

Regardless of that, she was here. She had come when no other had done so, and they still spurned her? Fury threatened to boil over again, and she bit back another scream. She had decided to show them her worth, prove her value. Then they would accept her. So she had.

Zillah had set upon the trail of traitorous Wolves with great zeal, killing or capturing Silent Fang, Barons and Baronesses, and decimating their ranks. She had fought in the Prison of Elders, pushing herself to outperform every other Guardian who set foot in the Reef. She had met every challenge set forth by Variks, by Petra, and cut through them with ruthless efficiency. None of it seemed to matter. They still rejected her.

By now the fury and rage were near constant companions, life preservers she clung to so that she would not be overwhelmed by the helplessness, the feeling of having no solid ground to stand on. She felt alone in the universe, brought back to life to serve a god she no longer believed in, desperate to serve a queen who had no interest in her services, and part of a race that refused to count her as one of their own. Even her abilities were beginning to fail her, her connection to the Light damaged by this internal schism. Her Ghost, Feivel, did what he could to help her, but what was one small voice against all the voices of the universe?


	4. Home Alone

Home Alone

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Yes, that is horribly clichéd, but it doesn’t mean that it can’t be true from time to time. Today was one of those times, at least for Cayde-6, Hunter Vanguard. Zavala was training a new batch of Titan recruits and would be busy all day. Ikora was in a conclave with some high ranking Warlocks discussing… well, frankly Cayde wasn’t sure what it was they were discussing. Ikora might have told him, but he had not been paying attention. Even Shaxx was away from his normal post, scouting new Crucible locations with his Redjacks.

So that left Cayde-6 in the Hall of the Vanguard. All alone.

Normally, that would not be too much of a problem. As much as Cayde complained about being stuck in the Tower rather than being in the field, there was usually enough going on to keep him occupied. There were missions to plan, enemies attacking from all sides, or some new crisis to avert. Today, however, none of that was going on. No new reports of Fallen activity. The Hive and Cabal were abnormally quiet. No new threat barreling in from outside the solar system. 

Cayde re-read recent reports to pass the time. All were very mundane. He sifted through his collection of maps of Hunter scouting missions, looking for anything unusual or out of place, but found nothing. After the first two hours, he was completely out of ways to try to fill the time. Not a single Guardian had appeared in that span.

Footsteps sounded, and Cayde’s head snapped toward the doorway, but it was just a maintenance frame coming in to clean. The Exo let out an audible sigh and hung his head. Stepping away from the table, he walked over the window overlooking the lush valley beyond the Tower. It was a rare piece of pristine beauty in a world ravaged by war and the results of the Golden Age’s collapse. Looking at it was the closest Cayde ever got to roaming the wilds these days. He watched as a large bird of prey circled several times before seemingly giving up and coming to roost in a tree.

“Nothing happening for your either, fella?” the Hunter muttered. “I feel your pain.”

Hours passed slowly, and still nothing happened. Cayde got so desperate to talk to anyone at all that he stepped out into the Crucible staging area, only to find Arcite 99-40, Crucible Quartermaster, was not at its post either, apparently taking the day off since the Crucible was closed. Looking beyond there, he saw that even Eris Morn was away from her usual place at the base of the stairs leading from the courtyard. The fact that he was actually upset that the damaged Hunter was not there spoke volumes about him and his need for companionship, but Cayde decided not to pursue that particular line of thought. He stared hopefully at the stairs for a moment, straining his audio receptors, but no one approached. Cayde’s shoulders dropped in disappointment as he turned and headed back into the Vanguard room.

There had to be something going on. It was impossible for him to believe that things could actually be this calm. Maybe everyone thought all the Vanguard had taken the day off and just did not realize he was here to offer assistance. Cayde stalked over to the intercom.

“Attention Guardians,” he said, his words broadcasting throughout the Tower. “This is Cayde-6, as if you couldn’t tell from the lovely sound of my voice. Just wanted to make sure you all knew I was on duty here in the Hall of the Vanguard, so if you need anything or have anything to report, come on down. If you’ve got any problems at all. Or need a mission.” He paused for a moment, the continued, “Or, if you just want to chat. I’ll be here. Seriously, somebody come talk to me.”

Certain that would end his boredom, Cayde walked over to his normal place by the table and waited. And waited. And waited. Time slowed even more, each second feeling like an eternity. Time seemed so distorted that he had nearly convinced himself that this was some sort of Vex trick.

He drummed his fingers against the table, listening to the sound of metal striking wood. He stopped and looked at the table thoughtfully. Making a fist, he knocked on its surface, really noticing the quality of it for the first time, how solid it was. An idea formed in his mind. Cayde reached under the table, feeling the wooden support beam running the length of the structure. Gripping it, he broke off a small chunk and looked at it.

“This should work nicely,” he said to himself. Placing the chunk at the end of the table, he strode down to Zavala’s spot and pulled out a throwing knife. Taking aim, he let the knife fly, embedding it in the chunk of wood. Cayde nodded in satisfaction, and stepped happily over to the broken piece of table and pulled out the blade. 

He set the hunk of wood in a different place and repeated the action. The blade stuck in the wood with a satisfying sound. He did it again, upping the difficulty each time, placing the block of wood further away. He covered his optics with one hand. He threw the knife behind his back. He tried turning his back to the block of wood and throwing the blade between his legs. He threw two knives at once. Each time, he hit his mark, and Cayde felt a little swell of pride that his skills had not diminished despite his confinement. That uptick in his day only lasted a few moments when he realized his little activity had taken less than an hour. Cayde let out a strangled cry, then got on the intercom again.

“Guardians, I know you’re up there. I can here ships coming and going. Surely someone has something to report. Someone get down here, that’s an order.”

Cayde-6 strode back to his place at the table and took a seat on its hard surface, glaring at the empty doorway. He still held the chunk he’d broken off in his hand, and began idly tossing it up and catching it as it came back down. As time passed, he became more intentional about the action, throwing it higher. Throwing it and catching it with his other hand. Throwing it up and catching it behind his back. He decided to add more objects, and briefly considered breaking another chunk off the table, but discarded the thought. He mulled over it for a moment, before coming up with an idea.

Taking two incendiary grenades, the Exo began to juggle them along with the piece of wood. Once he had all three items going in a steady rhythm, he grinned and started trying to mix it up a little, keeping the grenades in the air while tossing the wood back and forth in a simple Box. After a few moments, he switched it up again, weaving his hands back and forth performing a Mills Mess.

…

Hunter Jaris Corbin had heard Cayde’s desperate plea and laughed. He knew how poorly the Vanguard handled inactivity. He finished his drink and set the glass down on the bar. He looked at the woman seated next to him and considered ignoring the call for help.

“What’s that look in your eye?” she asked.

“Pain and regret. And maybe a little hope.”

“You’re going to have to explain that one,” she replied.

“Well, the regret is that duty calls,” he pointed to the intercom, “the pain is from leaving your side. The hope is that you will still be here in a few minutes after I go check on my boss.”

“Hmm,” she said scrunching her face in a parody of deep thought, staring at her glass, “I don’t know…”

“I am going to kill Cayde...” Jaris muttered under his breath.

“I’m kidding,” the woman said with a grin. “Go check on Cayde. I’ll probably still be here.”

Jaris smiled back and quickly made his way out of the bar. He crossed through the hangar and stepped out into the courtyard, blinking a little at the bright sunlight. Other Guardians milled about, none seemingly too anxious to respond to the Hunter Vanguard’s communications. Jaris considered just heading back to the bar, but felt obligated now. He descended the steps to the lower level, cut through the crucible staging area, and then froze as he approached the doorway to the Vanguard.  
The entire room was blanketed white in flame-retardant foam. In the middle of the ubiquitous material stood a six-foot pile of the stuff. As Jaris watched, a hand appeared, reached up, and wiped away a patch revealing the face of Cayde-6. The two hunters stared at each other for a moment.

“Don’t. Say. A word,” Cayde stated firmly just before an unseen dispenser in the ceiling shot another jet of the material directly onto the Exo.

The human Hunter stood with his mouth agape. Giving a sharp about face, he walked away, glancing over his shoulder and trying as hard as he could to not laugh until out of sight of the Vanguard.

“I’m serious! Not a word!” Cayde yelled after him. “Well, maybe a word to some frames. I’m going to need help cleaning this up before Zavala gets back!”


	5. New Kid on the Block

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Astrid was created by AO3 user Korfie. When I was posting "A Not so Simple Patrol" over at fanfiction, I asked for Guardian submissions for a Crucible chapter. She suggested one Guardian, but then I saw the write up she had for Astrid and asked to use her in a different way. This was the initial result. (Astrid pops up in a few of my writings following this, people liked her.)

New Kid on the Block

 

Nightstalker Celeste Etain was perched on a rocky outcropping outside of the primary patrol paths on Mars. She had been tasked with gathering intel on a Cabal Firebase that had been discovered in the area. It was now approaching three hours that she had been watching the overgrown space turtles moving supplies from one part of the base to another in a way that made little sense to her, and she was growing antsy. Sitting in place this long felt unnatural.

Peering through her binoculars, she watched as the sun glint off the blue and yellow armor of the Siege Dancers as they went about their work. A large Centurion, probably a Valus, was directing fortifications on the western edge of the base. Two Interceptors driven by Psions left the base intermittently, doing patrol sweeps. The path they took was predictable, and never put them in position to cause her any concern.

A Harvester swooped in and dropped off another contingent of Cabal. The first batch of troops dropped down and held position beneath the armed transport. The second group then tossed crates and equipment down to them. Celeste tried to make out any markings on whatever was being dropped off, but could not from where she lay. Once the last crate was down, the Cabal on the ground began moving it all to a position just out of view. Curious, Celeste decided to find a better vantage point to see what the newcomers were up to.

Crawling back slowly out of view, Celeste drew out a smoke bomb and threw it at her feet to activate her camouflage. She then sprinted from the rock to the next one over. She climbed it quickly, going prone once she reached the top. The camouflage would have given her more time, but she did not want to take any chances. Once in position, she set her sniper rifle on the ground next to her and pulled out her binoculars.

She still could not quite make out what was on the crates that had been delivered. Grumbling in annoyance, she crawled forward to the edge of the rock, risking the increase in visibility to try to get a better view. She strained to look, when suddenly the edge of the rock crumbled beneath her elbow. A small piece broke free and rolled down to the ground.

Please don't see that, Celeste thought over and over again as the rock came to a stop.

A Psion popped its head up and looked right at her. Instinctively, she grabbed her sniper rifle and brought it to bear, snapping off a shot that found its mark. The Psion's dropped to the ground, missing most of its head. The shot might have been silent, but the corpse would be noticed any time. Celeste scrambled from position and prepared to beat a hasty retreat. She had taken one step when the alarm sounded.

“Thrall spit,” the Hunter cursed as micro-rockets began exploding around her.

She slipped the sniper rifle to her back and pulled the hand cannon from the holster on her thigh. Running, she thrust her arm back and fired a few rounds blindly, smiling in satisfaction when she heard one of her pursuers cry out in pain. Just then, her Ghost, Whisper, sounded in her ear.

“Incoming call from Cayde-6.”

“Busy,” she snapped. “Ignore!”

“Ignoring,” Whisper replied. “Now another call coming in again from Cayde-6, this time utilizing Vanguard override authorization codes.”

“Celeste!” The voice of the Hunter Vanguard sounded over her comms, taking a forced jovial tone. “How's it goin'?”

“I'm a little busy trying not to die here, Cayde,” Celeste retorted, turning to empty her hand cannon into the Cabal behind her, then reloaded. “Can this wait?”

“Oh, I'm sure you'll be fine, and I'll be quick. I need you to get back to the Tower, pronto. I've got a... well, a special assignment that you are uniquely equipped to deal with.”

“What are you on about, Cayde?”

“You'll see, you'll see. Just... make it quick, okay? See you soon.” Cayde closed the connection as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

“Why do I think I'd rather stay here with the Cabal?” Celeste asked rhetorically.

“Because you do not want to see what Cayde has in store for you?” Whisper asked obliviously.

“You think?” the Hunter spat, taking aim and shooting an advancing Phalanx in the shoulder as he adjusted his shield. “Get my sparrow so we can get out of here.”

The sparrow materialized behind Celeste. She drew on the Void to created a grenade, which she threw toward the advancing Cabal. The Voidwall grenade exploded, sending streaks of purple Light in two directions, momentarily cutting the Cabal off. Taking full advantage of the moment, Celeste hopped on her sparrow and hit the throttle. Once she felt like she was a safe distance away, she had Whisper call out for the ship and left Mars behind for now.

…

She was still picking little pieces of shrapnel out of her armor when they arrived at the Tower. One of the pieces had nicked her arm, but the cut was shallow and barely bleeding. She bandaged it up, then guided the ship toward the top of the Tower. Whisper took over the ship and Celeste transmatted down to the plaza.

An odd mix of elation and dread swirled through her system as she made her way toward the Hall of Guardians. It could be an interesting mission. Maybe something top secret, the way Cayde called her in. Something did not feel quite right about the situation though. Cayde noticed her the moment she stepped into the room.

“Celeste, there you are! So good of you to respond to the call so quickly.”

“Well, it sounded urgent when you called,” she replied.

“Yes, yes, so it was. Look I've got a situation that I need you to take care of,” the Vanguard said in a conspiratorial tone. “It will be a lot easier if I show you. Follow me.”

Celeste fell in behind Cayde as they quickly made their way back up to the plaza, then headed in the direction of Guardian housing. She furrowed her brows in puzzlement, wondering where he could be leading her. Cayde was uncharacteristically quiet through the elevator ride down to the habitat area. As they exited the elevator, a large crash could be heard coming from one of the rooms.

“What was that?” Celeste asked, concerned that someone was under attack.

“That is what I brought you down here for,” was Cayde's cryptic reply.

The two Hunters strode down the hallway, anxiety building in Celeste. Finally Cayde came to a stop in front of one of the rooms. He hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself. After a few moments, he opened the door.

Inside the room was chaos. Furniture was knocked about, some pieces shattered. Knickknacks were scattered all over the floor. A frazzled looking woman sat on the floor, back pressed against the wall separating this room from the next. Just then, a small shape went hurtling across the opening, laughing giddily.

“Hi, Sally,” Cayde said, waving to the woman who cut him an evil glare and then, with a speed that shocked Celeste, sprung to her feet and sprinted past the two Guardians. Cayde sighed. “She isn't the first one to do that this week.”

Suddenly, the small form burst back into view and headed right for the two Hunters with a shout.

“Cayde!”

If Cayde-6 were organic, he would have had the breath knocked out of him by the pint-sized bundle of energy that slammed into him. Amazingly, charging full speed into the metallic form of the Exo seemed to have no detrimental effect on the creature that caused the collision. Celeste got her first look at the source of the destruction in the room and was amazed to see a girl who could not have been more than ten years old.

“Hey there, Wild Child,” the Hunter Vanguard said with a trace of affection. “I brought someone I want you to meet. This is Celeste.”

Cayde gestured to Celeste and the young girl looked at her skeptically from behind dirty-blonde hair that had fallen in her face.

“Celeste, this is Astrid,” the Vanguard continued. “You and she have something in common.”

Realization suddenly dawned in Celeste's eyes. She looked at the scene around her and back at the little girl. Just then, a Ghost floated into view, taking position slightly above and behind Astrid's shoulder.

“She's a Guardian,” Celeste stated.

“Well, not quite,” responded Cayde, bringing an annoyed look from the girl.

“Too young,” Celeste said quietly.

“Exactly,” Cayde confirmed. “She's Chosen, but too young to be a Guardian. Just like you were. She was dropped off at the Tower a couple weeks ago. A team of Guardians had found her while on patrol with no clue how long she'd been surviving on her own. Given your history, I thought you might be just the person to help her out. Plus, every indication is that she is going to be a Titan and, given your closeness with Claney, you are familiar with their idiosyncrasies.”

“What did you just call me?” Astrid snapped, glaring at the Vanguard and putting her hands on her hips.

“What? Nothing. Anyway,” turning back to Celeste, “do you think you're up for the job?”

“Of course, absolutely,” Celeste replied.

“Great,” Cayde said and slapped her on the back, the relief in his voice obvious. “I'll, uh, see you around. Oh, one more thing. Don't let her touch your maps.”

With that, the Hunter Vanguard disappeared through the door. Celeste and Astrid stood still for a moment, sizing each other up. One a Guardian who had been revived as a child, tall and lean with red hair hanging in a jumbled mess, the other a small child recently brought back to a world she did not yet understand. Astrid broke the silence.

“So, you were like me?” the young girl asked.

“Yes, I was,” Celeste told her. “I was about your age when I was brought back too. A Titan found me and brought me to the Tower; kept me safe. I grew up here, watching as everyone else that was resurrected went out to fight while I just stayed here studying and training, knowing that one day it would be me.”

The bravado and craziness that Astrid had been displaying disappeared for a moment, and Celeste caught a glimpse of the scared child beneath the surface. She gave a sad smile and held out her hand, which Astrid took.

“Hey, it's okay,” she said, then noticed the scars that covered the girls hands. Concern filled her voice. “What happened here?”

“I don't want to talk about it,” Astrid said, pulling her hand away from the Hunter and then hiding them behind her back.

“Okay. If you don't want to talk about it now, I won't push you.” Celeste paused for a moment, then bent down to Astrid's level, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Hey, if you're going to be hanging around this Tower, you need to know all the best places. I can show you all the hide-y holes and secrets this place has to offer.”

“How do you know them if they're secret?” Astrid asked, teal eyes flashing a challenge.

“Because I'm clever,” Celeste replied with a grin. “I've spent more time in this Tower than ninety-nine percent of the people here. I probably know it better than anyone save the Speaker. Follow me.”

With a grin, the Hunter turned and darted out of the room. Astrid stood still for a few seconds, thrown off by the unexpected turn of events. Celeste popped back into view, an impish grin still plastered on her face.

“You coming or not?”

…

Celeste and Astrid stared at the Traveler as it hung in the darkening sky. They'd spent hours exploring the Tower, Celeste showing her every place she used to go as a kid to get away from the adults or to practice her skills in secret. Several spots had been a challenge for her to get into now that she had grown, but that had only make Astrid laugh as she struggled to wriggle through. Now they were back in the main plaza, seated on top of Eververse.

“Do you like being a Guardian?” Astrid asked, deliberately keeping her eyes away from the Hunter.

“I love it,” Celeste answered honestly. “There are difficult moments, to be sure, but I wouldn't trade it for the world.”

“I think I'll like it too. I wish I didn't have to wait.”

Celeste laughed.

“I've been there too, kiddo,” she said, then froze. “What did I just say?”

“What did you just say?” Astrid asked at the same time.

“By the Traveler, I'm turning into Claney,” Celeste said with a groan, falling backward to stare at the sky. “That simply won't do. We need to do something fun. Now. Got any ideas?”

“Well,” Astrid said, thinking, “Cayde is usually alone in the Vanguard room right now and there was a lot of that smelly weed in that abandoned garden you showed me earlier.”

“I like the way you think,” Celeste said with a smile.


	6. Before the Fall

Before the Fall

 

The Warlock let out a sigh and gave the Exo equivalent of a bemused smile as she heard the doors open behind her. Where she stood, perched on a ladder with her back toward the entryway, she had no way of seeing who had entered the library, but she knew exactly who it was none the less. Even if she had had numerous visitors here, which she did not, the cadence of the footfalls were a dead giveaway. No Warlock moved that way and the books would be rattling on the shelves if it was the Titan.

A glance over her shoulder confirmed her suspicions. The Hunter stood near the first collection of books, bright green eyes hungrily taking everything in. Those green eyes burned with a desire to know, and one could find themselves lost in them if they were not careful. She was different than any Hunter that the Warlock had ever known and would have made a fine Warlock herself, had her Light chosen a different path.

Different, the Warlock mused, that was a perfect word to describe Eris Morn.

“I am afraid I am all out of books on zoology and ethology, Eris,” the Warlock called over her shoulder. “You have read them all.”

“That is quite alright, Eriana,” the Hunter replied, “I was looking for something of a different nature this time. Not to mention, some of the changes the Traveler wrought limit the value of old knowledge in that area anyway. No one from before the Golden Age had dreamed of the Ahamkara or batodactyls, for instance. I was wanting to delve into a little botany and herbology this time.”

“Well, if you are concerned about changes due to the Traveler, those will only take you so far as well,” Eriana-3 replied with amusement, “given the lack of vegetation on Venus prior to its arrival.”

“Lucky for me I am only concerned with terrestrial flora, then,” Eris stated, turning her attention to the nearest book shelf, running her index finger over the ancient spine of a manuscript.

“Give me a moment to finish and I will see what I have,” the Exo responded, re-shelving the book she held.

“Anything I can give a hand with?” Eris asked, turning her attention back to the Warlock.

“No, thank you,” Eriana replied. “I just need to... Ah ha!”

Eriana-3 spotted the tome she had been searching for and gently lifted it from its place. She climbed down the ladder, book in hand, then set it on her desk. Turning her gaze back to the other woman in the room, Eriana studied her for a moment. She knew of no other Hunter who sought information in the way that this one did. Coming to a Warlock the way she consistently had was out of the ordinary as well, as most Hunters seemed to take an almost antagonistic view of their more scholarly compatriots.

“Botany and herbology, you said?” she asked, to which the Hunter replied with a nod. “I am curious about something, Eris.”

“What would that be?”

“Why you keep coming here,” Eriana stated directly. “Surely there are larger collections in the Tower. I know that the Cryptarchs, for instance, have much more raw information to offer than I could hope to.”

“That is probably true,” the Hunter conceded, “but they also hoard their knowledge more greedily. Many other Warlocks are the same, especially if it is a Hunter that comes calling.”

Eriana-3 nodded at that, then stepped over to a different shelf. Scanning the books it held, she slid one from its resting place. Turning back to Eris, she was surprised to see that the Hunter had silently slipped across the room and was studying the cover of the book she had pulled down earlier.

“What is this?” Eris asked eagerly, tracing the image etched on the front with a fingertip.

“Something I acquired a few years ago,” Eriana replied. “Information from the end of the Golden Age about the species called The Hive.”

“The creatures that drove humanity from the moon,” Eris said quietly.

“Exactly,” Eriana nodded. “You have been studying. I'm impressed.”

Eris gave a small smile and looked away, uncomfortable with the praise that came all too rarely.

“They drove us from the moon,” the Warlock continued, “and then stopped there; no one knows why. They have been silent and seemingly dormant since then, but now something is changing. Scanners have been detecting faint traces of signals. There has also been evidence of large scale seismic shifts, which is very odd coming from a celestial body with no tectonic activity. There is some concern that whatever has been sleeping on the moon all these centuries is being roused.”

As Eriana spoke, Eris opened the book carefully. The pages were covered with recorded eye witness tales and sketches. People who had encountered the Hive and lived to tell the tale. They spoke of creatures that resembled nothing so much as walking corpses of the long dead, dry skin flaking away; of unbelievable supernatural abilities such as floating beings firing darkness from their fingertips. Before the first Risen, such powers would have been beyond the understanding of humanity. A strange dread that she had never felt before gnawed at Eris' stomach as she looked at the drawings.

“Forget the other books,” the Hunter said to the Warlock, looking up from the yellowed pages to look at the Exo, “do you have anymore books like this one?”

“No,” Eriana replied, taken aback by the urgency in the Hunter's tone, “that is all I have on the matter. I am sure the Cryptarchs have more, but like you said...”

“They don't like to share,” Eris finished. After a brief pause, she continued, “This is important enough to make them share. I think I'll go have a little talk with the Master.”

What the Hunter had in mind with the word “talk”, Eriana did not know. Whatever it was, however, the feral grin that spread across her face and light blazing behind her green eyes made the Warlock certain that she did not want Eris having the same sort of “talk” with her at any point. In a blink, the Hunter had turned and walked out of the study. A glance at the page Eris had been looking at revealed a hand-drawn image of a creature labeled Wizard. Nothing specific jumped out at Eriana that would have caused such a strong reaction in the Hunter, but if one Guardian reacted that way, it gave her hope that she could make others consider the potential threat.

…

“Ah, Rahool!” Eris shouted as she saw the Awoken Cryptarch in the hallway near their library. This was about as good a turn of events as she could hope for, as he was rumored by most to be next in line to head the order.

The Cryptarch turned looked at her, then rolled his golden eyes. He turned away from her then and made to continue on his way. Eris grimaced, narrowing her eyes, and picked up her pace. She easily caught up with the Awoken man and stepped in front of him, blocking his path. He came up short and tilted his head, literally looking down on her.

“What can I do for you, Hunter?” he asked condescendingly.

“I need information, and I need it now,” she told him, “and I want you to get it for me.”

“We've been through this, Eris,” he replied, “our records are not free for perusing with dirt encrusted fingers. Now, if you'll excuse me...”

Rahool made to step past the Hunter. Eris drew a knife and spun, stabbing the blade into the wall in front of him. The Cryptarch arched an eyebrow and glanced at her, attempting to give a stern look of disapproval. Eris, however, noticed the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed hard and the slight tremble in his lip as he spoke again.

“Quite the display. Are you finished?”

“No, not remotely,” she hissed. “I can think of a thousand ways to make you change your mind, should it come to that. Some you may find in ancient manuscripts, many of my own devising. Test my resolve, Cryptarch, and you may learn something new today.”

“What could be so important that you would risk the repercussions of such an act?” Rahool asked, the tremble becoming more noticeable.

“The Hive,” Eris said quietly.

Rahool's eyes widened. Bingo! He did know something. Eris extracted her blade from the wall, checking the tip before putting it away and gestured for the Cryptarch to lead the way. He strode in the direction of the archive, and Eris fell in line, smiling triumphantly.

…

While Eris visited the Cryptarchs, Eriana-3 had scooped up her book and made her way to visit the Vanguard. If she was right about the moon, someone needed to say something. If the Hive were stirring, she had no doubt that they would set their sights on Earth. If something was not done, they would find the planet easy plunder, as the City was still recovering from The Battle of Twilight Gap, the Vanguard was still adjusting to a change in membership, and things were still in disarray after The Faction Wars. Perhaps the Hive were somehow aware of how tumultuous recent years had been and looked to take advantage?

She found the Vanguard in their usual place, going over reports from the failed raid into the Vex's “Vault of Glass” on Venus for the umpteenth time. While it was true that the Vex presented a curious threat, Eriana knew she needed to get them focused to something a little closer to home. She made a noise that was the Exo equivalent of clearing her throat, and the three turned to look at her. Andal Brask, longtime Hunter Vanguard stood to the left, newly appointed Titan Vanguard stood next to him, and to the right was Ikora Rey, herself still relatively new to the post as well.

“Hello, Guardian,” Ikora spoke up first, “what can we do for you today?”

Eriana proceeded to outline her findings on the moon and the Hive. She showed them the book and discussed her fears of what the Hive could do if they woke. The three Vanguard listened, though she found it difficult to read anything in their faces as she made her plea. When she had finished, she stood and waited, hopeful.

“This could indeed present a grave threat to the City,” Zavala said after a moment, crossing his arms and considering the Exo.

“We could send a Guardian to check it out, perform a quick scouting mission” Andal suggested.

“Indeed, but who?” Ikora asked. “We just lost a team of our best to the Vault, and Saint-14 has never reported back in regards to his search for Osiris.”

“I may have someone in mind,” Andal replied. “I'm sure he'd be happy to go searching for nightmares.”

“Thank you for bringing this to our attention,” Zavala intoned.

Eriana nodded, then returned to her study. She found Eris waiting outside the door, holding several volumes of material. Excitement flashed behind her green eyes when she saw the Exo and she waved one in her direction.

“I knew I could convince them to share,” she said.

“Impressive,” Eriana responded honestly. “Remind me to stay on your good side.”

Eris smiled again, and Eriana stepped past her to unlock her door. The Hunter followed the Warlock into the room eagerly.

“I had a productive time as well,” Eriana continued. “I met with the Vanguard, told them of what I had noticed about the moon, presented them with the information about the Hive. They are at least considering the possibility of a threat. They are sending a Titan, Rezyl Azzir, to investigate.”

“Only one?” Eris asked in surprise. “Traveler's Light, I would expect better from them.”

“We have lost many reliable soldiers recently,” Eriana conceded. “The caution isn't unexpected. Once Azzir comes back, though, I'm certain they will feel the need to do more. I have you to thank for it, actually.”

“Me?” Eris asked in genuine surprise.

“Yes,” Eriana replied with a smile. “Your reaction to the book. I was concerned about what was happening, but could almost write it off as my own fears. Seeing another respond so viscerally to the book, however... it convinced me that others might see it my way.”

“Well, I'm glad I could be of some assistance,” the Hunter said, giving that embarrassed smile again.

“It almost makes up for all the times you have come in and interrupted my work,” the Exo stated in mock seriousness before letting out a chuckle that was matched by Eris.

…

Years later.

The memory slips away as Eris Morn comes fully alert. In a rare moment, she had let her guard down and the past had rushed back to visit her. She blinked and searched for the source of the noise that had snapped her from her reverie, then realized her hands were empty. She had been holding something before, had she not? A quick glance at the floor revealed an ancient book, pages crisp and yellowed with age. A Hive rune was emblazoned upon the cover. Lifting the book, she traced her finger over the familiar image like she had done so many times before. The book. 

Eriana's book, she thought.

She pulled the book tightly to her chest and choked back a sob. Once again she felt the overwhelming loss of her friend. Why did she have to remember? She glanced at the book again, then set it reverently back onto the shelf she had taken it from. Her hand lingered, then fell away. Eris turned away from the book, away from the past. She stalked across the room toward the door. As she did, she caught sight of her reflection in a picture frame.

Her hand reached up almost involuntarily, fingertips tracing the contour of her face. The Hive had taken so much from her. She had lost so much of her self in that pit of Darkness. Though changed, there was one thing left. Her eyes were still green. That was one thing they had not taken from her.


	7. My Buddy and Me

My Buddy and Me

 

Old Austin, North American Empire. Many years before the Destiny campaign.

Sarai, Caelan-5, and Kado, three Guardians from Fireteam Beirchart, cautiously made their way through the remains of the once-great city. The other members of the Fireteam monitored them from afar, watching for any signs of incoming enemy craft. So far, they had not seen any signs of Fallen in the area, but they knew that could always change in a moment. The three of them were on edge as they crept down the ancient street, moving between buildings and the rusted hulks of cars and trucks.

Suddenly, a blip on the motion tracker.

Sarai, as the senior Guardian of the three and second-in-command for the Fireteam, directed the strike force. The Awoken Hunter directed the other two to follow her as they cut east, moving toward the motion. They were searching for a scout that had gone missing nearby. There had been no word in too long and the Guardian was assumed dead, but his Ghost had valuable information that needed to be retrieved.

“Update,” the voice of Donvan, the leader of the Fireteam, crackled through the comms.

“We picked up something to the east. Moving to investigate,” Sarai replied.

“Acknowledged,” came the reply. “Comms are a little scratchy. Not sure if it is environmental interference, or if someone is attempting to jam us.”

“Yes, I noticed that as well,” the Hunter said, then, “Caelan, keep on eye on that. I don't want any surprises.”

“I'm on it,” the Exo Titan responded.

The team stopped moving and Caelan-5 crouched down behind a car. The Titan removed the pack from his back and pulled out two small objects. He pressed a button, and the two orbs unfolded, revealing themselves to be two small drones. He held out his hand, and they lifted off, maneuvering close to two large buildings for cover and then flying straight up the sides of them.

The Titan was a bit of a techie. After one too many encounters with Fallen, he had decided if they had flying weapons to help them out, he should too. He spent most of his downtime tinkering with machines and developing small drones with different functions. His Ghost was only jealous of them some of the time.

“Comm drones are up,” he said. “We'll see if that helps with the signal issues.”

The blips on the motion tracker began moving away from the band of Guardians at a slow pace. Whoever they were, it seemed unlikely they had stumbled across the lost scout, or there might have been more of a flurry of activity. Still, best not to waste time.

Sarai got the team moving quicker, sacrificing a bit of their stealth. Once they closed on their quarry, they moved with more caution. They soon discovered they had been following Fallen. Three Dregs, to be exact. They seemed to be searching with no urgency, likely scavenging in general rather than searching for the missing Guardian. A few quick hand signals from Sarai and the team jumped into action, taking down the Dregs before they even knew they were there.

Certain there were no other Fallen in the immediate area, the Guardians checked the bodies to make sure they did not have the Ghost. As expected, they had nothing. Kado pulled up the last sensor map of the area, trying to pinpoint their position in relation to the last known position of the missing scout.

“Heeeeeellooooooo!”

The cry rang out unexpectedly from behind. The Guardians looked at each other in confusion before turning one by one to see the source of the sound. This far into Fallen controlled territory, they had not expected to find anyone alive. They definitely were not expecting a jaunty greeting.

A lone figure stood on the collapsed remains of an old building. From the cloak hanging from the person's shoulders, they surmised that it must be a Hunter. Whoever it was, they were waving their hand wildly over their head. The arm dropped, and the figure hopped from the rubble, began skipping toward the Fireteam.

“I'm not the only one seeing this, right?” Kado asked, watching the figure approach.

“No, I see it too,” Caelan replied, clearly confused.

Sarai stepped between the two of them and raised her weapon, shouting at the stranger, “Stop right there!”

“Hey, hey, no need for that,” the stranger replied jovially. The voice gave him away as male, and lacked the synthetic tone of an Exo. 

He raised his hands in the air and stopped skipping, but he continued coming forward with a little bounce in his step. Closer now, it was clear that he was, in fact, dressed like a Hunter. 

“Who are you?” Sarai asked, straight to the point.

“Me?” he resplied. “Just a guy out here enjoying life with his buddy.”

“You hear that?” Sarai directed to the other members of her squad. “Keep your eyes peeled.”

“But you can call me Farren,” he continued. “And I have to say, that was excellent work you did with the Fallen there. Just superb.”

“Farren?” Kado spoke, puzzled. “Isn't that the guy we were here to find?”

“Farren?” Sarai asked the man. “Scout for Andal Brask?”

“Hey, yeah, that's me!” Farren replied enthusiastically. “Did he send you guys out here to look for me? Man, Andal's the best. Just the best.”

“You were on a mission for him and went missing,” Sarai continued, instincts screaming at her that something here was not right. “What happened? Where did you go?”

“Mission?” the man's bright demeanor suddenly dropped for a moment, and he began speaking furtively to himself. “Mission? No. No, that was... that didn't... We don't like to think about that.”

The strange Hunter put his hand against his helmet as if he was suffering from a headache. He stood that way for a few seconds, then visibly relaxed. When he spoke next, his voice had regained its chipper tone.

“Mission. Right. Yeah, I did that. My Ghost can tell you about that.”

Farren held out his hand and his Ghost materialized. It cast its eye around like it was worried about what might be nearby, then flitted over to the team. Kado's Ghost appeared, and the two remnants of the Traveler communed to share information. Farren's Ghost glanced around nervously again, then dematerialized. Farren turned his head to watch the exchange, and Sarai gasped.

“Look at his face,” she said to the other Guardians over the private line. “What in the Traveler's name is that?”

Something clung to the other Hunter's helmet. It was a red and black pulsing mass of some sort that extended just past the edge of his hood. A small portion could be seen on the other side as well now that they were looking, giving the impression that whatever it was wrapped completely around the Hunter's head. Farren seemed to noticed the change in their demeanor.

“Is something wrong?”

“Do you realize you have something on your helmet?” Kado asked, earning a sharp glance from Sarai. So much for subtlety.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, that's my buddy.”

“Your buddy?” Caelan inquired skeptically.

“Yeah. They gave him to me. They told me that he would eat my thoughts and leave me full of Light.”

“They?” Sarai this time.

“Yeah. Well, there was only one guy, but he said they sent him. He was super weird, but he gave me my buddy, so I like that guy.”

“We need to get you back to the Tower,” Sarai stated, holding out a hand. “Andal is worried, and we should get someone to take a look at that... whatever it is.”

“No! They'll hurt him. I can't let that happen!” Farren recoiled from them, placing his hand against his head again. “We are perfectly happy out here.”

“Trouble,” Caelen called out suddenly. “Check your HUDs. We've been so busy talking to this guy we missed company approaching.”

The others saw then what the Titan meant. A large number of red dots had appeared on an approach vector. They turned and saw the first Fallen appear. The alien let out a cry, and more came into view.

“Get to cover!” Sarai shouted.

The team sprang into action, Kado sprinting to the corner of a building while Caelan ducked behind a car. Sarai slipped behind some rubble, poking out to open fire at the Fallen. Farren stood in the middle of the street, watching the flurry of activity. There were eight Fallen in all, Dregs and Vandals. Weapons fired back and forth, with the team managing to take out four of them. Caelan cursed as a shot from a wire rifle clipped his arm. Without warning, Farren stepped forward.

A gun made of Solar Light suddenly appeared in his hand. He took aim with his Golden Gun once. Twice. Three times. Each shot dropped an alien, but the remaining Vandal had the Hunter in his sights. Farren made no move to make himself less of a target, so Sarai moved to force him to the ground when he fired a fourth time. The other Hunter stopped, stunned. How had he done that?

Farren reached up, not as if in pain this time, but instead to stroke the thing attached to his face. Sarai tore her eyes away and looked to her team to see that Kado and Caelan were both staring at him as well. No one had ever managed more than three shots from a Golden Gun.

“How did you do that?” Sarai asked, finally.

“My buddy,” Farren replied happily. “Like they said, he makes me full of Light. Well, this was fun, but I think we're going to go. Tell Andal I said, 'Hi.'”

The Hunter began casually strolling away from the group, whistling a jaunty tune. The three of them watched him go, dumbfounded.

“Do we stop him?” Caelan asked finally.

“No,” Sarai replied. “We should just head back. We got the data, and I don't know if we could force him to go back even if we wanted to.”

“What do we tell Andal?” Kado asked.

“We tell him the truth,” Sarai said with a shrug. “Whether he believes it or not is up to him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had mostly kept to a "no exotics" rule with my writing, since I wanted them to actually be rare and unusual. This came from a discussion I following along with on Discord where they were discussing Hunter Exotics and the Achlyophage Symbiote came up. Achlyophage is “dark eater”. The flavor text on the helm reads, “They told me it would eat my thoughts and leave me full of Light.” Well. Dark eater. Eats thoughts. Some people took that down the “Guardians/Traveler are evil”, as it's feeding on us so we're full of darkness. Me, I took it as “eats all your dark thoughts”. Thus, this.
> 
> Now, with D2, Hunters fire several more shots with their Golden, so 4 seems much less of a big deal, but it worked at the time.


	8. One Disaster Breeds Another

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Major Character Death" is a warning that can be attached to stories. I didn't attach the warning to "Tales We'll Tell" as a whole, but this entry does feature a somewhat brutal death of a character.

One Disaster Breeds Another

 

Obsession and madness walk hand in hand, and Eris was beginning to wonder which hand Eriana-3 held, and which belonged to her.

Much had happened since the Exo Warlock had pitched her concerns about the Hive to the Vanguard. Rezzyl Azzir had undertaken the scouting mission to Luna, and only his Ghost returned. This lead to Eris and Eriana increasing the urgency of their studies, knowing the danger of something that could kill a Guardian of his stature. Eriana had even begun discussing a search for the mad Warlock Toland who had been driven from the Tower years before due to his obsession with these creatures.

Shortly after the disappearance of Azzir, the Hive had actually launched an invasion of the Earth. In what had become known as “The Battle of Burning Lake”, the Guardians had their first full introduction to the Hive, and it had shaken them. Eris and Eriana-3 had both been present, finally facing down these monsters they had been studying. It had left a deep impression on both of them. Eris' resolved had been hardened, knowing for certain that these beasts were the threat she feared. Eriana had been changed in other ways. The Warlock was distracted and distant when discussing anything except the Hive.

Currently, the Consensus was meeting to debate launching a counterstrike on the moon. In a surprise move, Lord Shaxx had been the key dissenting voice. The man who once defied an Iron Lord to lead a charge at the Battle of Twilight Gap now preached patience. Eriana and Eris had been two of the primary voices arguing in favor of an assault, but Eriana's zeal was starting to concern her friend deeply. The two opposing figures now made their argument before the leaders of the City and the Tower, as well as a collection of prominent individuals and Guardians..

“The Hive have been holed up inside the moon for centuries,” Shaxx spoke to the gathering, an imposing figure in his orange and white armor, “and there is a reason for that. It isn't that they lack strength. There was no one who could stand against them when they took it, and we have no way of knowing what sort of forces they have built up in all that time. Why are they willing to move now? The power they displayed at Burning Lake is not something to be trifled with, and could be but a sampling of their armies for all we know. We need intel. Send a strike team to explore and get the lay of the land, then make an informed decision.”

“No,” Eriana interjected, optics glaring at Lord Shaxx before turning to the Consensus. “The Hive have shown their hand. We cannot afford to sit back and wait for them to regroup and come at us again. We need to hit them hard and show the Darkness the power of our Light.”

That last statement drew nods and murmurs of assent. Many Guardians were angry and out for vengeance, so the more aggressive stance of Eriana had been gaining followers daily. Shaxx's helmet swiveled as he scanned the assembly, head tilted defiantly.

“You know my record,” he stated firmly. “You know that I have had no fear in leading a charge when I believed it was the right thing to do. This is not one of those times. We have no idea what we will be walking into if we set foot on Luna. Only a fool charges into a battle he is not prepared for, and we are not prepared.”

More murmurs from the crowd. Eris could see that Lord Shaxx held a lot of sway with the audience, and with good reason. There were many, many nervous faces in the chamber, but she sensed that most were still leaning in their direction. Either way, they would know soon enough.

The Speaker rose from his seat and raised his hands. All whispering ceased as every eye turned to the white-clad figure. Once he was certain he had their attention, he spoke.

“Thank you, Lord Shaxx and Eriana-3 for sharing your opinions with the Consensus. It is clear that both of you hold strongly to your position. You have both given us much to consider, and we will convene at this time. Expect to hear our answer by this time tomorrow.”

With that, the members of the Consensus rose and left the chamber. Once they had departed, the audience left as well. Soon, only Eriana, Eris, and Lord Shaxx were left behind. The massive Titan strode purposefully to the two women.

“You are a fool,” he spat, helmeted gaze fixed on the Warlock. “This crusade of yours will not end well, mark my words.”

Shaxx turned and left. Eriana's fist clenched in fury as she watched him go. Eris placed a restraining hand on her friend's arm.

“Don't risk doing something foolish,” she whispered. “Shaxx believes in his stance, but I think he can feel that he isn't getting through to them. He hates to lose any battle, and is reacting accordingly.”

Eriana whirled to face the Hunter, “Do you really think so? Do you think we won them over?”

“Yes,” Eris said, wishing not for the first time that her friend wore a human or Awoken face that could be read, as opposed to the metal plates of an Exo. “I believe the Consensus will rule in our favor.”

“I hope you're right, my friend,” Eriana replied, placing a hand on Eris' shoulder. “Then we can put an end to this nightmare. And the whispers.”

The two women left the chamber then, headed in the direction of Eriana's study. Eris would have preferred to go somewhere to get her friend's mind of the proceedings, but new Eriana would want to bury herself in her books again. The unmistakable figure of Wei Ning was standing outside the door as they approached. Eriana smiled and embraced the other woman, who grinned from ear to ear.

“Word around the Tower is that you hammered Shaxx at the hearings today,” the female Titan said by way of greeting.

“Oh?” the Warlock questioned.

“Absolutely,” Wei responded, “You know I prefer punching things to talking, but a win is a win, right? I think the Consensus sides with you and we go take back the moon. Good thing, too. My helmet needs a few new war marks.”

“Hello, Wei,” Eris chimed in. “It is good to see you in such high spirits.”

“Hey, Eris.”

Eriana unlocked the door, and the three women stepped into her study. The Warlock froze suddenly, confusing the other two. They glanced from her to each other, baffled.

“What the problem?” Wei asked, to the point.

“That book,” Eriana whispered, snapping out of shock and striding over to her desk.

An unassuming book sat in the middle of the desk, the space directly around it clear of anything else. Eris and Wei watched, confusion still etched on their faces.

“What about it? It's a book?” the Titan shrugged.

“What about it?” Eriana asked incredulously. “It wasn't here when I left the room. I've never seen it before. The door was locked, no one should have been in here.”

She flipped open the cover and gaped. The other two women made their way to stand on opposite sides of her and looked down as well. Inside the front cover of the book was a hand written note.

Eriana-3,

I am impressed with your progress. I never could get those simple minded fools in the Consensus to listen to me. You have done well, but there is still much you do not know. I could educate you, open your mind to things that you never imagined. Seek me out if you want to know the real face of your enemy.

Toland

Wei whistled softly. Eriana flipped through the book, glancing at its contents. There was so much here, much of it that she had pieced together piecemeal through numerous old volumes. There was also much that she had never seen before. She glanced at the opening note again. Could it really have been the mad Warlock?

“Eriana...” Eris began, but the Exo cut her off.

“You two should go. I want to be alone for a little while. I'll see you both in the morning when we get the decision.”

The other two women both hesitated, glancing at each other again.

“Leave!” Eriana stated firmly, and the other two grudgingly acquiesced.

...

The next morning found Eriana at the assembly hall before anyone else, anxiously pacing while she waited for the Consensus to arrive. Eris met her there, having first tried her room and then her study and found both empty. The Warlock did not even acknowledge the Hunter's appearance. Eris considered forcing the issue with her friend to get her to discuss the previous night, but the doors opened and the assembly began to arrive.

The two women took their place, while Lord Shaxx strode in to stand opposite them. The Vanguard and heads of the factions entered and took their seats. Finally, the Speaker entered, taking the central position and dominating the rooms focus. A heavy anticipation hung over the room.

“Thank you all for joining us again today,” the Speaker began. “And, once again, the Consensus thanks Lord Shaxx and Eriana-3 for their counsel. You both made compelling arguments over the course of these proceedings. After much deliberation, the Consensus has come to an agreement. It was not unanimous, and the Dead Orbit representative would like their objection to be made part of the permanent record.”

The meaning of that was not lost on Eriana. Dead Orbit was the one faction who had opposed an assault on the moon since day one. Elation filled her as the Speaker continued.

“This body has decided to follow the course of action proposed by Eriana-3 and Eris Morn.” An excited babble rose from the audience, but the Speaker spoke over them and it mostly died down. “It was Eriana who brought concern about the Hive to the Vanguard, a concern that proved valid when they launched an assault on us. It is our belief that sitting back and waiting for them to move again would be detrimental to the safety of the Last City and those that gather here beneath the shadow of the Traveler. The Vanguard will begin preparing for the assault immediately.”

Shaxx slammed his fist down on his podium and glared at Eriana for a moment before wheeling about and stomping out of the room. The Warlock sneered at his back, then left the opposite direction. Eris took in the tumult of the room, listening to the voices of the crowd as they filtered out, both those in agreement and those of the opposition. Casting a look in the direction her friend had gone, Eris turned to go prepare for what was to come.

…

Things moved quickly after that. It became clear that the Vanguard had been planning their strategy while the hearings were going on so that they would be prepared for whichever outcome presented itself. Guardians massed in numbers not seen since Twilight Gap. It was hard not to be impressed by the gathered Light, it was a palpable presence that lifted the spirits of everyone involved. It made them feel invincible.

The host landed on the lunar surface and quickly established fortifications within abandoned facilities. Eriana and a group of Warlocks from her order set themselves up in an old research lab. Eris longed to rove the surrounding terrain, given that no one had set foot on the moon in centuries. At Eriana's request, however, she opted to stay with her friend.

The Hive wasted little time in responding to the arrival of the Guardians. Thrall came shrieking from every nook and cranny, launching themselves at the invaders in a never ending horde. Despite their numbers, the Thrall were outclassed by the might of the Guardians, and that lifted their confidence even higher. Victory was beginning to feel inevitable.

A fireteam reported hitting some heavier resistance as they pushed toward the Imbrium Basin. Powerful creatures with large swords had entered the fray, bringing up shields of unknown material to block attacks launched at them. That team disappeared. Feeling that the stronger forces located there was significant, the Vanguard began directing the assault in that direction.

The Hive met them in force, and the battle was truly joined then. Guardians began to fall, but they continued to press forward. As more powerful creatures of the Hive began to emerge, the tide began to turn. The offensive of the Guardians broke, and the forces of Darkness started to push them backward. A massive, skeletal beast of unbelievable power entered the fray, glowing with green fire and swinging an impossible blade. Thus, the true nature of the Hive revealed itself. Where once victory looked certain, catastrophe now loomed. Then, a surprising breakthrough. A fireteam managed to capture a wounded Hive creature. At Eriana's insistence, it was brought to the Praxic facility for interrogation.

The creature, what they learned was known as a Wizard, gave them little other than the name or the monster that led the Hive forces. Crota. It also promised death. Reports from Mare Imbrium began coming in, revealing how badly the battle was going. Hearing this, Eriana led her team into battle in hopes of helping to swing things back into the Guardians favor, but they were too few and came too late. Eriana arrived just in time to see the Wizard's prophecy come true.

Wei Ning was near the forefront of the engagement, surrounded by enemies. She waded through Thrall that crumbled beneath her fists. An Acolyte found itself within arms reach and Wei grabbed the creature, reared back, and brought her head forward violently, slamming her helmet into her foe's face. Pulling out her auto rifle, Wei unloaded on several other enemies. Unfortunately, she did not see the beast behind her until it was too late.

Crota thrust his sword viciously, impaling the Titan from behind, his blade punching through her spine and emerging from her chest. He then raised the blade skyward, holding the corpse up for all to see before bringing it down and slamming her body into the lunar regolith. She did not move again.

“Wei!” Eriana screamed, suddenly igniting with Solar Light. Flame leapt from her hands, searing any and all Hive in close proximity, the creatures screaming as they burned.

Eris ignited her Arcblade, darting and slicing through those that Eriana missed. An Exalted Knight approached, swinging its massive sword at her, attempting to cleave her in two. Eris dodged left and darted back in, slicing through the armored creature like a knife through butter. Around them, the others started to retreat, panic setting in for many. Crota swung its evil blade again, cutting clean through another Guardian.

“Fall back,” someone yelled. “Fall back!”

A line of Defender Titans erected their Wards in a chain, forming a barrier that allowed the others to turn and flee. It was not an orderly withdrawal. Eris grabbed Eriana's arm and pulled her friend, desperately trying to get her to safety.

“What have I done?” the Warlock asked in horror, finally noticing the scope of the devastation. Hundreds of bodies covered the ground. “What have I done? Wei? What have I done?”

Eris finally managed to pull her away, and the women fled with the others.

…

The short flight back to Earth was silent. Everyone was in shock. The sight of battered and bloody Guardians returning to the Tower, warriors openly sobbing for lost friends, and the utter sense of despair that permeated the air deeply scarred everyone who witnessed it. In the aftermath of the battle, all Guardians were forbidden from entering lunar orbit. 

There were two ships that plotted a different course.

“Where are you going?” Eris asked upon realizing that Eriana was not on course for the Tower.

“To find Toland,” was the reply. “He can show us the way to fight that monster, to kill Crota. If we can find him, we can put an end to the threat and avenge the dead.”

She cut the connection then Eris and had her Ghost bring up an image of the fallen Titan. At that moment, Eriana wanted nothing more than to be human so that she could cry for her lost friend. She would have to settle for vengeance.

“Crota will pay for what he did to you,” she swore.


	9. Firebrand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entry takes place between chapters 17 and 19 of "A Not so Simple Patrol".

Firebrand

 

Three figures stood in the Tower courtyard, near the opening overlooking the City. Two were women and were dressed in full battle gear, minus their helmets. One was human with long red hair pulled up in two pigtails. The other was an Awoken, green hair pulled messily up on the back of her head. The third figure was a red-haired human male and wore casual clothing. Despite that, he was still noticeably bigger than his armored companions. Hunter Celeste Etain, Warlock Zillah Arvid, and Titan Claney Beamard had been through quite a bit that day, but more stood in store for one of them.

“See ya, Kiddo,” Claney told Celeste. “If you do end up leaving the Tower, come find me first, okay?”

“You're really going to milk this 'dad' thing for all it's worth, aren't you?” the red-haired women teased. She gave the man a quick hug, then looked at Zillah. She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, but hesitated. “See ya,” she said eventually, then turned and walked away.

After several steps she glanced back, looking at the other two. Zillah and Claney had turned away from her and were facing the Traveler, engaged in conversation. Celeste's brows pulled together and she pursed her lips. Something about the situation did not sit right with her. 

Claney she had known for years and was family to her. The only family she had since being revived as a Guardian by her Ghost, Whisper. Sure, due to the nature of her unusual situation, there had been a few other people that had helped watch her when Claney was on missions, but she had never felt a real connection with them. The big man had been there when she had been revived, had protected her, cared for her, and helped train her. Well, as best as a Titan could, anyway.

Zillah, on the other hand, she had only known for a short time. She had met the Warlock while the Awoken woman was on a mission with Claney. Zillah had been nothing but rude to the both of them for most of the time they had known her. There was always a bit of a rivalry between Hunters and Warlocks, and the two groups did not always get along, but it went beyond that. The Warlock had seemed to have an authentic dislike for her and Claney.

Somewhere, though, things had changed. Celeste had noticed differences in the way the other two spoke to each other and their body language. Even now, as they stared at the Traveler hanging over the Last City, they were standing close, each seemingly at ease with the other.

It made the Hunter uncomfortable, and she could not quite place why. Her eyes narrowed, then she shook her head, chasing away the line of thought. She had left the other two to go visit someone else, and need to follow through on that. With a last look, Celeste turned and headed for the residential section of the Tower.

The apartment she was looking for was very familiar to her. She had called it home for a little while herself, and now someone else was having to do the same. Not long ago, another Ghost had made the same error hers had and revived a Guardian that was too young to be allowed in the field. Of course, Astrid was even younger than she had been, and had quite a different personality. 

Celeste had bounced around a few homes when she was young, many people not being up to the task of dealing with a teenage with the power of a Guardian. Finally, she'd ended up with Mr. and Mrs. Anusky, and it had mostly worked. Having had some success with Celeste, the couple had agreed to take Astrid under their roof as well. It had not been quite as smooth a transition as everyone hoped, but last time Celeste had stopped by, things seemed to be settling in to some form of equilibrium. She only hoped it had held.

When Celeste reached the apartment, the man and woman greeted her warmly. Celeste may not have bonded with them the same way she had Claney, but she did like them. Each time she saw them now, she was surprised to see how much they seemed to have aged since she first entered their home. In her mind, they always looked like they did when she was brought to their door, the fourth such couple to try to take her in.

After catching up briefly, they told Celeste that Astrid had been invited to sleep over with a friend from school, and that they had reluctantly agreed after much cajoling from the tiny Titan. They pointed her in the right direction, and the Hunter made her way to the friend's home. When she got there, she was in for another bit of news when the mother of the friend said that Astrid had told her daughter that she was sick and was not going to be able to come over after all.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I must have missed the update on that one,” Celeste responded with a smile, trying not to let her surprise show. “Sorry to bother you, ma'am.”

The door closed, and Celeste spun around on her heels and set off down the hallway. Astrid had the Anusky's convinced she was with a friend, but told the friend that she was home. She wanted to be somewhere with no one the wiser, and the Hunter had a pretty good idea where that might be.

When she first met Astrid, she had shown the younger girl every secret place she had discovered among the Tower, all the ways she had discovered to make living here bearable when everything inside you longed be out doing other things. One place in particular had seemed to catch Astrid's fancy.

After The Battle of Twilight Gap, much of the Wall had been abandoned, along with the towers that guarded it. Some had since seen minimal use, including the Bannerfall Crucible field. As a teen, Celeste had found an old, abandoned tunnel that led to one of the other towers. These structures were made to be fortifications, so down below the ground, each had a large, very solid bunker built as a last refuge for fleeing civilians. It was in that bunker that Celeste had practiced and honed her Light away from prying eyes and ears. Astrid had taken to the place immediately, relishing the opportunity to unleash her abilities.

Celeste picked her way through the tunnel, climbing over some rubble and wriggling her way through other portions while remembering how much easier it had been to squeeze through a few years back. Whisper flew over her shoulder, illuminating the way and twitching nervously. The Ghost had never liked her coming here, always concerned that it would collapse and keep them pinned with no way out.

Finally she reached the other tower and climbed down the few flights of stairs to the bunker. She had anticipated hearing the pop of gunfire, the small explosion of Light fueled grenades, or small, armored fists smashing things, but she heard nothing. She pushed the door open and found the room empty. Now that was unexpected.

“Whisper, ping Astrid's Ghost,” she ordered, double checking the room to make sure the younger Guardian was not just hidden away somewhere.

Whispers shell expanded and rotated around his central ball of Light. Seconds stretched on before he collapsed back into himself.

“Guardian Astrid is not in the Tower.”

Thrall spit, Celeste cursed inwardly, whirling out of the room and heading for the surface. No need to cross through the tunnel now, she could exit the current tower and search the vicinity.

Celeste stopped only long enough to fire off a quick message to Claney:

Old Man,

Popping out of the Tower to track something down. Should be back soon. No fighting with the Rainbow Death Squad while I'm gone.

Celeste

That taken care of, she set off to try to find Astrid. She just hoped the little munchkin had not gone too far from home on her own. She had Whisper transmat her sparrow down to speed things up.

“Keep scanning for her,” she told the Ghost. “I don't care if we set off Fallen sensors, but try not to send anything toward the Tower. Don't want them thinking there's a Guardian in trouble and sending anyone else out.”

“Or, maybe we do and someone else deals with the Fallen in the dark?” the Ghost asked hopefully.

“No. We find her on our own and keep it quiet.”

They searched for hours. She only had to dodge fire from Fallen snipers three times, which seemed like a strangely low number. She was considering giving up and admitting they might need to contact someone when Whisper finally made contact.

“I've got her. No sign that she has noticed us yet.”

“Good. Mark her on the HUD, please,” Celeste told the Ghost. She nodded when the white marker appeared. The Hunter dismounted her sparrow and began walking. Behind her, the machine disappeared as the Ghost transmatted it back into whatever pocket dimension hoodoo the machines used to store their Guardian's gear.

Hunters possess unmatched stealth capabilities among the different classes of Guardians. Some more than others. Bladedancers, for example, have cloaking technology allowing them to virtually disappear. Nightstalkers, like Celeste, have a similar ability even if their version is a bit showier in execution. She threw down a small bomb, the resulting smoke covering her and rendering her practically invisible. Thus concealed, she sprinted toward the glowing point on her HUD.

She slowed as she drew near, not wanting the sound of her approach to give her away. Astrid had been moving as well, though at a more leisurely pace. At last, Celeste drew close enough to catch sight of the young girl.

Astrid was clad in the armor her Ghost had manufactured for her at resurrection. She had her scout rifle she had brought with her to the Tower as well, though it was currently slung across her back carelessly. She was walking along the remains of a crumbled wall, placing one foot in front of the other and holding her arms straight out at the side to help maintain her balance. From time to time she came to a missing section and would hop across, landing on one foot. One jump she seemed to misjudge, but managed to use Lift to course correct and continue on.

Astrid reached the end of the wall, then swung her weapon around into firing position. Celeste grabbed her Uzume RR4 and aimed through the sight, trying to see what had caught Astrid's attention. Lined up in a row were several makeshift targets. Buckets rested on top of smooth, straight sticks. Brooms, maybe? Below, other things like sticks, rope, or cloth were attached to simulate armor and two arms on each side of the body. Stick Fallen. Celeste watched Astrid as she aimed and fired, missing with her first shot.

“Thrall spit!” the little Guardian shouted, then fired again. 

This time she managed to punch a hole in one of the buckets, which brought a loud whoop. The Titan thrust her fist in the air, which caused her to lose her balance. She steadied herself, then fired off several more shots, hitting more than she missed. She was improving. Celeste was impressed.

Once the last target was down, Astrid slung the gun back over her shoulder and started to make her way back along the wall. She turned back toward Celeste and froze. She stood still for a second, then took a few cautious steps forward. Moving quicker than the Hunter had ever seen her move before, she swung the gun back around and fired right at Celeste.

Celeste dodged just in time, the bullet plowing into the ground right where she had been laying. When she looked back up, Astrid had jumped from the wall and was approaching her position, scout rifle at the ready. The Hunter was baffled. How had Astrid seen that she was there, and why was she attacking her?

“I know you're there.” the Titan muttered to herself, the muzzle of her rifle sweeping from side to side. “You picked the wrong target, Vandal.”

Celeste accidentally kicked a rock, making a scuffing noise. The young girl swung to her left and fired off a shot in her general direction. As quietly as possible, Celeste scuttled back in the original direction before speaking just in case Astrid reacted to another sound by pulling the trigger again. No need to take a bullet if it was not necessary. 

“Not a Fallen,” she called out. “I even have the hood back home to prove it.”

“Celeste?” Astrid questioned, lowering her gun.

The Hunter stood with her hands raised and the grenade's invisibility wore off. When Astrid saw her, she dropped her gun and sprinted toward Celeste with a laugh, slamming into her mid-section and wrapping her arms fiercely around her. The force of the impact drove them both to the ground. Celeste had the wind knocked out of her, but when she could breathe again, she laughed along with her.

Astrid suddenly stopped laughing and popped up, before crossing her arms over her chest and sitting forcefully on Celeste's stomach, causing the older Guardian to have to catch her breathe again. “Why were you going to shoot me?”

“What do you mean?” Celeste gasped. “You shot at me.”

“No,” Astrid argued, “I shot at a scope glint. You were aiming at me.”

Celeste let out an involuntary laugh of disbelief. Astrid growled and raised a fist as if she was going to punch her.

“I wasn't aiming at you,” Celeste got out finally. “I was looking through the scope to see what you were shooting at. I thought you might be in trouble. Nice targets, by the way.”

“Oh,” the Titan said sheepishly after mulling it over for a second, then hopped up.

“Now it's your turn to answer a question,” the Hunter stated as she climbed back to her feet. “What are you doing out here?”

“Duh. Target practice. You saw,” the Titan retorted, waving her hand in the general direction of her make-shift Fallen.

“Yes, but why are you out HERE? Why not just use the bunker or one of the other rooms I showed you? And why did you lie to the Anusky's about a sleepover?”

“Ugh,” the child moaned, throwing her hands up in the air. “Because it's sooooo boring in there. The same rooms. The same walls. All. The. Time. And I lied to them because they would never have let me come out here alone.”

“With good reason,” Celeste responded. “You know the Fallen are more active at night.”

“I'd come during the day if I could sneak out of the Tower then,” Astrid grumbled a reply.

“That's... You would... You know that's not what I meant,” Celeste managed stammered out, exasperated. “You think it was easy for me to stay in there all the time? I'm a HUNTER! Everything inside me screams to be out here roaming around and exploring. But I stayed there because I knew it was what I was supposed to do.”

“Well, I'm not you.”

There it was. Despite Cayde's hope that the two would get along famously since they were both revived so young, that was the ultimate truth. Despite the one similar circumstance behind their revival, Celeste and Astrid were very different. 

Celeste had no memory of her life before her resurrection, of course, but nothing had made her think she had any history of being a combatant before she died. She had struggled to learn how to handle firearms. Resisted the idea of her life being war and struggles. Astrid, however, came with some skill with a rifle. She arrived with knuckles scarred from unremembered brawls. She took to combat training faster than a lot of adult Guardians. Whatever life she had lived before her untimely death, it had not been easy and had left a mark on the young girl. 

“I know that, Astrid.” Celeste dropped to one knee to get down to the smaller Guardian's eye level and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know you see the world differently than I did. I just don't want anything to happen to you. Plus, imagine how Mr. and Mrs. Anusky would feel if you slipped out when they were supposed to be taking care of you and something did happen?”

“I didn't think about that,” the tiny Titan admitted. “Please don't tell them I lied?

“I won't,” Celeste replied, then her voice dropped into a conspiratorial whisper. “Tell you what. I've got an idea that we can run by Cayde. It will let you get out of the Tower, let you get the practice you need in honing your skills and abilities, but it will keep you safe at the same time.”

“I'm listening,” Astrid replied.

…

The next day. A three versus one standoff just outside the Hall of Guardians.

“No absolutely not!” Lord Shaxx objected strenuously. This had to be the worst idea he had heard in years.

“Come on, Shaxx,” Cayde-6, Hunter Vanguard, cajoled. “You know it's safe. Mostly. Wild Child here's a Guardian, so we know she has the ability. Plus, imagine the look on some Guardian's face when they run in to her!”

“No,” the Crucible Handler stated again, crossing his arms over his massive chest.

Astrid jumped up on the table in front of the big man and mirrored his stance, olive eyes boring a hole through his helmet. The two stood that way for several minutes, seemingly staring each other down, the only change being a narrowing of Astrid's eyes.

“Fine,” Lord Shaxx, almost Iron Lord, hero of the Twilight Gap relented, throwing his hands up. “She can go in the Crucible. Once. Just to see how it goes. I make no promises beyond that.”

Astrid whooped and jumped up and down, while Celeste and Cayde shared a grin. Shaxx suddenly pointed a meaty finger at the little Titan, which stopped her jumping.

“One thing,” he stated firmly. “No crying. There's no crying in my Crucible. I repeat, there's no. Crying. In my Crucible.”

“Tell the other Guardians that,” Astrid grinned.

…

Later that day. Widow's Court, European Dead Zone.

The Warlock spun nervously, searching for his target. He knew he had seen something move, but was detecting nothing. A laugh from behind sent a chill up his spine, and he whirled around, three rounds leaping from his pulse rifle. Nothing. Suddenly, a blur. Something small dashed around a barricade that was not big enough for anyone to use for cover and clipped his knee. He crashed to the ground hard. Rolling over, he saw the most absurd thing he could recall ever seeing. A Titan about half his size was standing over him, a battered Jigoku SR3-SL held near her hip. Bewildered, he could only watch as she cocked back her fist, unleashing a devastating punch with a laugh.

More Guardians took shots and punches directly to the knee that match than in any previously recorded Crucible match. By the end of the battle, the entire Bravo team was limping and trying desperately to find high ground. After taking yet another blow to the knee, that Warlock let out a little whimper.

“Yes!” Lord Shaxx's voice rang out, “Make them cry!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Astrid is the property of Korfi.
> 
> I originally wrote this chapter in February of 2017. A reviewer loved the "Make them cry" line and wished Shaxx really said it in game. Then came Destiny 2 and... Shaxx actually says that in the game.
> 
> I'm going to claim Bungie stole it from me.


	10. Farewell, My Friend

Farewell, My Friend

 

For Cody

 

Lord Saladin had sensed that this day was coming for a while now, but that did not make it any easier. No matter how many times he had gone through it over the centuries, every loss still cut to the center of who he was and left a bitter wound. And he bore many, many of those scars.

After the death of the other Iron Lords, his wolves were the only family he had. Unfortunately, the lifespan of a wolf was short in comparison to a pre-contact human's. Compared to one reborn and filled with the Traveler's Light, they were but a fleeting instant. Now, another moment was coming to an end.

Dib had been the head of his pack for a number of years. Over the last few, he had begun to move slower and clearly could not see as well as he once could. Saladin had stopped taking him on most patrols and Ulf had taken his place. Still, the old Titan had a soft spot in his heart for the faithful animal and kept him close at hand in the rare moments he allowed himself to relax.

In recent months, Saladin had noticed the old wolf seemed to have trouble getting comfortable. Whenever he tried to lay down, he had to readjust a number of times before finally settling in. Occasionally he would whimper or cry out for no obvious reason. The wolf was also less responsive than he had been in the past, often not even moving when Saladin entered the room when before he would have been instantly alert and ready for whatever his master may need.

And now he was nowhere to be found.

Many people believe animals like wolves, and their cousins dogs, went away to die for a number of reasons. Many of those reasons anthropomorphized the animals, giving them human levels of understanding of what was happening to them. Saladin had come to believe it was simply an attempt to hide from the thing that was hurting them. Of course, they never could because it was inside their own bodies. The last thing the Titan wanted for his friend was to die alone and scared.

The search was not difficult. In his lessened physical state, there were not many places on the mountain that Dib could reach on his own. Saladin found him curled up underneath an outcropping of rock near the Temple. For the first time, it occurred to Saladin how thin the animal looked. How had he not noticed that before? When had Dib stopped eating?

Dib lets out a little whimper when Saladin reaches in and gently scoops him up. A small shudder ripples up the wolf's flank as Saladin holds him in his arms. The large man looks around, momentarily uncertain of what to do. Certainty came to him then, and he strides back inside the Iron Temple.

He passes through the main entryway, stalking down the corridor with purpose. He enters the circular room ringed by statues of the honored dead. Deeper still, in the areas he had yet to open to the other Guardians, he comes to a stairwell and ascends. Finally, he reaches the upper room, a sheltered alcove with a wall made entirely of shatter-proof glass, a room that gives an unmatched view of the surrounding area.

Saladin lowers Dib to the ground, then sits beside the wolf. Dib whimpers and paws at Saladin's leg. The Titan pats his lap, and the animal crawls halfway up, his lower legs still resting on the ground. Pulling off his armored gauntlet, Saladin places his hand between the animals ears and ruffles the fur there.

“It's okay, boy,” he says comfortingly. “I am here with you.”

The wolf's brown eyes flick up at his master, looking into those of the big man.

“You have done your part,” Saladin continues, knowing the animal does not understand the words, but hoping that it gains comfort from his voice, “You lead your pack well and were a trusted companion. No one, nothing, could have done better.”

In Saladin's lap, Dib shifts around, turning his head to the left and kicking out with his back foot. Saladin continues to scratch between his ears and the wolf lets out a long breath.

“Do you recall the first band of Fallen that we encountered together?” Saladin asks, the memory bringing a smile to his lips. “You had just replaced Phelan in the pack hierarchy. We were patrolling near the wall and came across a few Dregs who were trying to find a way through. The sounds of surprise they made at the sight of eight wolves emerging at a full sprint from the darkness with stay with me forever.”

All through the night, Saladin reminisces and ruffles his hand through the wolf's fur. He alternates scratching between the animal's ears and running his hand down the length of its back. At some point in the early hours of the morning, Dib lets out a shuddering sigh and is still. Saladin continues to stroke the fur of his dead friend as a tear rolls down his cheek.

As the sun finally peeks over the horizon, Saladin rises and lifts the lifeless body. He carries it back down the stairs and out of the temple. He gently sets it down and constructs a pyre. Picking up the body of his friend a final time, he sets it reverently on top of his construct and steps back.

“Farewell, my friend,” the last Iron Lord states softly. “You were the best boy.”

Saladin lights the pyre and steps back, watching solemnly as the flame engulfs it. In the distance, he can hear the howling of wolves and his heart cries out with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written in March 2017 as a tribute after the passing of my dog that I'd had for 14 1/2 years. He was my best friend. I still miss him sometimes.


	11. Challenge Accepted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My interpretation of what lead up to the Shaxx 1 and 2 grimoire cards that came out during the Age of Triumph at the end of Destiny 1.

Challenge Accepted

 

“Maybe he's just waiting for the right competition, sir. Perhaps you should make a more... direct request.”

The words, spoken by Titan Claney Beamard on his way to the Hall of Guardians had rung in Lord Shaxx's ears for a while now. The Crucible Handler had long been trying to get his former brother-in-arms Commander Zavala to take on other Guardians in the Crucible, to show the newer generation how the real legends handled their business. Zavala had turned him down every time. Claney had said the words in an off-hand manner as he passed by, but the seeds had found fertile ground and grown roots.

Of course, Shaxx knew he had to wait for the right moment. There always seemed to be a new crisis, and recent events had not been any different. The Transmission epidemic had hit the Tower and then SIVA has reared its ugly head. Now, however, things were beginning to slow. The Devil Splicers were being pushed back into whatever hole they had crawled out of. Things were calmer than they had been in a number of years. The time had come to make his move. If he waited much longer, who knew what minion of the Darkness would come crashing through and consume Zavala's attention again. So, Lord Shaxx strode into the Vanguard's war-room and threw down the proverbial gauntlet.

“Shaxx? What can we do for you?” Ikora Rey, Warlock Vanguard greeted him as he entered.

“I've come to speak with Zavala.”

The Awoken Titan Vanguard turned his gaze to Shaxx then. At one time, the two men had been as close as brothers. Both trained under the legendary Lord Saladin, former Titan Vanguard and last of the fabled Iron Lords. Something had split the two, something neither of them would admit to. There was a lot of whispered speculation among the Guardian ranks, with the most popular theory being Shaxx's aggressive action during the Battle of Twilight Gap. Others thought it was related to the Great Disaster, where Shaxx had become the voice of caution while Zavala agreed to the attack. Regardless of the reason, the two men rarely spoke to each other these days.

“Is there some sort of problem?” Zavala asked.

“No,” Shaxx replied, “other than the fact that you have continued to turn down my request that you participate in Crucible matches.”

“This again?” Zavala shook his head. “I've told you, Shaxx, I'm not going to battle Guardians in the Crucible. It would be a waste of time.”

“Yes, you have. And that's why I'm presenting a different challenge,” Shaxx told him. “Claney helped give me the idea. I want to challenge you directly. In a private match. The two of us pitted against each other would show them more than you wiping the floor with a group of Guardians could anyway. I want you to fight me, Zavala.”

Ikora Rey, quirked an eyebrow in surprise, a response tantamount to anyone else gasping in shock. The Hunter Vanguard, Cayde-6, had a much more verbal reaction.

“Oh my. This Tower finally got interesting.”

“You do realize that Claney's latest great idea was to crash his own ship on top of himself?” the Titan Vanguard responded dryly.

“He felt it was the only way to get the job done, and it worked.” Shaxx retorted. “That is exactly what I'm doing here. I've wanted to get you into the Crucible for years, to show the new Guardians what they could be capable of if they hone their Light. You've refused every time. So I'm taking matters into my own hands now. You and me, one on one in a private Crucible match.”

“I have more important things to do than play childish games, Shaxx.”

“Well, actually,” Cayde-6 chimed in, “you don't. Not right now anyway. The Guardians have things pretty much handled.”

“I don't recall asking for your help, Cayde,” Zavala warned.

“That's what's so great about me,” the Hunter Vanguard replied. “I don't need to be asked, I just help.”

“Especially when not asked,” Ikora muttered under her breath, just loud enough for the Exo to hear.

“Ikora, you wound me,” Cayde said, clasping his hands to his chest.

“The answer is no,” Zavala stated finally. “I would appreciate it if you would not bring this up again.”

Shaxx stood staring across the table at the other Titan, his annoyance palpable. His hands clenched into fists, then relaxed. He took in a deep breath as if he was about to say something, and then let it out.

“Fine,” he spat eventually, and then turned to leave.

“I'll do it.”

Shaxx spun around to see Cayde leaning with one hand on the table, the other twirling a hand-cannon around his index finger. His face was turned three-quarters of the way away from the big man, optics tilted up toward the ceiling as if studying something in the corner. Ikora and Zavala were both openly staring at the Exo.

“What?” Shaxx asked.

“I said,” Cayde began, his gaze drifting to look directly at Shaxx's helmet, “I will do it. If the big, blue boy scout here won't, I'll take you on. Provided you let me choose the match type. We could even put a friendly wager on it.”

“But I didn't issue the challenge to you,” Shaxx intoned as if speaking to a child.

“True, true. But one Vanguard is as good as another, right? I mean, we both hang around in here all day. We're both bald. Sure, I'm a lot better looking than him, but... come on.” Cayde gestured as if to indicate that the last statement would be a given regardless of who he was discussing.

Ikora just shook her head at that. Shaxx mulled it over for a moment. 

“What match type did you have in mind?” the Titan asked finally.

“Rift.”

“Absolutely not.”

Cayde feigned a gasp, “Did you hear that, Ikora? Shaxx is afraid of a challenge.”

“What did you just say?”

“I said,” Cayde leaned forward, laying it on extra thick, “that Lord Shaxx, Crucible Handler, hero of the Battle of Twilight Gap, is afraid. Of me.”

“I'm afraid of no one. Least of all you, Cayde,” Shaxx gave a derisive snort.

“Prove me wrong then,” Cayde continued, pressing his luck.

Shaxx stood silent, so Cayde kept talking. Like he always did.

“If you're worried about who will call the match while you're busy, Eris will do it.” He looked past Shaxx to yell in the direction of Crota's Bane, who turned at the sound of her name, “Won't you, Eris?”

“What?” she called back.

“See, she'll do it.”

“This is a waste of my time,” the Titan shook his head.

“I knew it,” Cayde said with a theatrical exhale, “Shaxx is afraid of me. Too scared to accept the challenge. What are Guardians coming to these days, Ikora?”

Shaxx's voice dropped to a register that neither Cayde nor Ikora had ever heard before. “You should be more careful of your words, Hunter. You're on. I'll see you in the Crucible.”

The large Titan whirled on his heels and stalked out of the room, shoulders set in determination. Cayde tried to shake of a chill that went up his no-longer existent spine.

“Well, glad that is settled,” Cayde-6 remarked.

“You do realize that he is going to kill you, right?” Ikora asked, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

“Oh yeah. Probably a lot,” Cayde admitted before regaining his bravado. “But don't worry, I've got a trick or two up my sleeve. I've got this.”

…

The match was set for the very next day with Bannerfall as the chosen location. Much to everyone's surprise, Cayde somehow managed to cajole Eris into calling the match. Every single viewer across the system was tuned to witness the unprecedented sight of these two figures battling it out. The two men met briefly before the match was set to begin.

“So, did you think about my other idea?” Cayde asked. “About putting a wager on this?”

“I can't believe I'm even considering this,” Shaxx sighed. “What did you want to wager?”

“Oh, I've got a pretty good idea, but I want to keep it a secret for now,” Cayde said with a wink.

“Not that you'll win,” Shaxx responded. “I accept. I hope you enjoy Crucible clean-up detail, you'll be on it for a while after this.”

“Hey, anything to get out of the Tower,” came the retort.

The two went their separate ways then to make final preparations. Wagers were coming in from the Tower and the City, with Shaxx the heavy favorite among Titans, Warlocks, and civilians. The Hunters leaned much more heavily toward their representative. 

Bannerfall is a location set in one of the many abandoned Towers that used to make up the fortifications of the Last City. This particular Tower was the location of a major battle in the Faction Wars as well, where New Monarchy had finally put an end to Concordant's uprising. It was a map with large, open areas, but also many small corridors that lead through the structure that a Rift runner could use to skirt around defenders.

The countdown began, and the two men transmatted into the arena.

“Team designations are unnecessary in this situation,” Eris intoned. “We present to you Lord Shaxx and The Fool.”

“You know I can hear you, right, Eris?” Cayde asked.

“Yes,” she replied calmly.

“Oh.”

“Fights as if your very soul depended on it! Run as if the dark forces of Oryx himself were behind you breathing vile incantations upon your necks!” Eris called out, and the match began.

In Rift, the orb did not appear immediately, giving both sides the opportunity to get in position and battle each other for control of the spawn point. Cayde skulked around the outside edge of the map, cutting through a hallway and approaching the courtyard from the open end. He figured Shaxx would expect him to approach from a direction with more cover. He figured wrong.

A flurry of rounds from a scout rifle slammed home in quick succession, scoring the first kill of the match.

“Lord Shaxx records first blood. The Fool trails,” Eris reported.

Cayde dropped back into play just as the first orb materialized. The Hunter Vanguard began to sprint as soon as his feet touched the ground. He heard the report that Shaxx was now the runner and pushed himself to go faster. The respawn zones were directly behind the rifts, so Cayde knew Shaxx would have to take a round-about path to try to score. He hoped the Titan would expect Cayde to try to play defense and that he could catch him off guard by being aggressive.

This time, Cayde guessed right. Shaxx had opted to try to follow the same path Cayde had taken after the initial spawn. It was not a bad idea, but it gave Cayde time to close the gap and take Shaxx down from behind.

“The Fool stops the runner. Darkness descends as the spark is lost. Lord Shaxx still leads due to distance covered as the runner.”

That gave Cayde-6 the opportunity to get into position to grab the next spark, but Shaxx stopped him before he was able to detonate. The rest of the match continued much in that same way. The Hunter's speed gave him the advantage over the bigger Titan, so Shaxx seemed to focus more of his energy scoring points by getting kills. Cayde managed several long carries before Shaxx dropped him, which kept the points very close leading up to the final minutes of the match.

Once more the spark spawned, and once more Cayde grabbed it and ran. He sprinted through a doorway and cut through the C control zone, trying to make his way quickly to the rift. Shaxx attempted to go through the upper level of the building and cut him off. Cayde appeared and Shaxx opened fire, scoring several hits. The next shot would score another kill, but Cayde suddenly dropped to his knees, sliding across the floor and causing the final round to sail over his head. He vanished from view, and Shaxx could no longer stop him from reaching his goal.

Detonation. Cayde took the lead with less than a minute left. Shaxx cursed himself for missing and turned to wait for the next spark. He would have to grab it and score a detonation to win.

The big man crouched and waited, keeping an eye out for the Hunter. A red blip crossed through his motion tracker, and he knew Cayde was running to get in position to cut him off. Seconds ticked by and it started to feel like the spark would fail to respawn before time ran out on him. Finally, the spark flashed into existence, and Shaxx scooped it up.

He took a step toward the A control zone, and there was Cayde. Somehow he had made it completely around the map and appeared in the doorway. It was almost impossible, but there was no time to consider that now. Shaxx cut to the right, having to take the more open route.

Shaxx took several steps and jumped. Channeling his Light, he propelled himself forward. Titans were capable of using their Lift ability in quick micro-bursts to push themselves forward at great speeds. The maneuver was colloquially referred to as “Titan Skating”. A Titan skilled at this could actually outrun any other Guardian, and Shaxx was very, very good. He was closing rapidly on the rift, painfully aware of the seconds ticking by, when he heard something that filled him with dread. A Golden Gun activation.

Desperation forced Shaxx to push himself harder than he ever had. He would never live down a loss in his Crucible. Especially not to Cayde. He had to make it. He was going to make it.

He did not make it.

Fire bloomed in his chest at a shot from Cayde's Golden Gun tore through him. Shaxx burned away to nothing, the spark dropping to the floor. The timer clicked to zero.

“The Fool... won...“Eris was stunned.

Across the system, jaws hung open in shock while Hunters cheered their Vanguard's victory and the glimmer they were going to be getting because of it. Shaxx's Ghost resurrected him in the staging area, and Cayde transmatted in next to him.

“Good match,” Shaxx grudgingly admitted, holding out his hand. Cayde shook it.

“You too,” the Hunter replied. “And now, about our wager.”

Shaxx stiffened, letting go of the Hunter's hand.

“Oh, don't worry about it, big man. It won't be too bad, I promise. You know that large field just outside the City?”

“Yes.”

“Meet me there tomorrow. I've got a surprise for you.”


	12. Guardian Angel

Guardian Angel

 

Angels exist. There, I said it. I know that saying that sort of thing can draw all sorts of negative attention to someone. There was a time when most people believed in them, but all at once it seemed to be considered irrational. Foolish. Ridiculous. I always believed. Of course, my beliefs have been changed and shaped over time and my angels are something different than what you might be thinking of. They aren't beatific winged figures playing harps on clouds. Nor are they the fearsome, multi-winged, multi-faced creatures of Revelation that could make a man fear for his soul by gazing on them. No, my angels are something quite different indeed.

You see, I can reach out and touch my angels. They are flesh and bone. Gears and plating. Standing above us and protecting us from the Darkness without, clad in plasteel and sapphire wire. My angels are the Guardians, or Risen as we once knew them.

Hmm. It seems that was somewhat anticlimactic. I can see it in your eyes. Never the less, there it is. Think about it for a moment, though, and it will ring with a deeper truth than you may see at the surface.

Is a Guardian simply a person? It hardly seems so at times. I presume you've seen what it is that they can do. What kind of man or woman can do such things? Jump into the air and then jump again with no ground to stand upon? Conjure an impenetrable shell from nothingness? Glide along the ground with lightning crackling through their finger tips? 

Beyond that, there is the simple fact that to become a Guardian, you have to have died. Many of them were supposedly people who lived long ago, but not all. Some of them were people that we knew. They died and they came back as something other than what they were, often times not even recognizing close friends and family. Who is to say what is there now is the same person that left? Maybe something else is looking out through those eyes now, something supernatural.

I can still vividly recall the first time I encountered one of them. It isn't something one easily forgets, you know. I was still young; young enough not yet to have hit physical maturity and had the effects of what the Traveler did to us take effect. I was still growing, changing. This was when the City was just beginning, still a rumor among those of us struggling to eek out a living in the remains of what once was.

My parents had heard the stories. Pilgrims in a caravan, marching to the resting place of the Traveler where there was safety and shelter. Our little village had been relatively safe, but rumors of Fallen raiders kept drawing closer to us. It seemed it was only a matter of time before they discovered us and it would not have gone well for those living there. So my parents decided to leave. We packed up everything we owned and joined a passing train of people.

The journey would have been hard even without having to worry about the Fallen, who were not even the only raiders we had to worry about. Anyone who approached had to be met with skepticism at least, if not outright hostility. It is not like we were moving quickly and could get away from someone who wanted to start trouble. Most everyone was on foot, and we were short of supplies.

We had been on the move for several days when the Fallen found us. Shrill cries and whoops rang out from the surrounding countryside. Another sound became audible too, and we quickly realized that it was an approaching Skiff. The ship flew overhead and stopped just out of range of any weapons we might have had. Once stopped, it began unloading troops, who rushed forward.

Many of those traveling with us panicked and ran. The long line of people snaking through the open territory shook and splintered as people tried to find anywhere to get away. Blasts from wire rifles and shrapnel launchers tore through those closest to the aliens, who had severed the line in front of my family, cutting us off from the direction we had been going.

Three ships screamed overhead then. Not Fallen this time, but human. However, they seemed to fly right past, not even slowing. Many raised their hands toward the ships, crying for aid from the pilots, but it looked to be in vain. That seemed to break many of the people around us, as a desire to flee seemed to give way to weeping and wailing.

Suddenly, two people who were near me dropped, the Fallen having turned their attention our way. A splash of blood hit my sleeve and I can remember just staring at it, uncomprehending. My mother wrapped her arms around me, trying to turn my head from the bodies. She held me so close that I could not breathe. I managed to turn my head back around, away from the corpses, and gulped in air that now carried unfamiliar smells.

The Fallen were striding toward us, speaking to each other in that strange language of theirs. One with four arms, that I now know to be a Vandal, raised a shrapnel launcher and pointed it at me. I knew that I was moments from death, when the angel came.

I learned later that the Guardians had been in those ships that had flown overhead. They had passed because they were doing a quick sweep for any other large groups of Fallen before choosing to engage. They had transmatted down somewhere behind me and charged forward. At the time, though, they seemed to appear from nowhere just at my time of need.

The Vandal raised the shrapnel launcher and aimed at me, then suddenly let out a squawk and its aim shifted. The other aliens behind it reacted as well. I turned my gaze upward and saw the figure fall from the sky. He was big, a good head taller than my dad who was no runt. Thick armor plating covered his entire body. A fabric flag flapped at his waist and he had a crest on top of his helmet.

He dropped right in front of me and just paused in midair for the briefest of moments. His hands shot out to the sides, and we were surrounded by a faint purple glow. He glanced back at me and I could see a similar purple glow bisecting the mask of his helm. Most of the Fallen were outside of the shell he had created, but one was trapped inside and it howled in unexpected pain. The shrapnel launcher fell from its grip as it raised all four hands to cover its eyes.

A rifle was suddenly in my savior's hands and the blinded Fallen was down. The other aliens attempted to fire, but the bubble that had been erected around us stopped every shot.

My angel stepped from inside the shield, opening fire at the other aliens, dropping a couple. Shots rang out from the right and left, taking out more. Another Fallen, larger than the others suddenly appeared, blinking into existence near my Guardian and attacking with swords. The Guardian deflected the attack from the Captain, as I was to again learn later it was called, and struck the alien with the butt of his rifle. The Captain tried to retaliate, swinging his blades again. This time the Guardian released his gun and caught one of the arms and struck, breaking bone. The alien roared in pain and fury, and the Guardian reared back his head then snapped it forward, slamming his head into that of his enemy. That drove the Captain to the ground, and the Guardian was able to regain his weapon and fired at his opponent, finishing it off.

Now it was the Fallen's turn to panic and run. As they attempted to flee, more shots rang out from out sides, picking them off. My Guardian turned from the dead Fallen and looked back at us. With a powerful grace, he stepped back to where we were, then knelt in front of me. I stared back at that faceplate, eyes drawn to the purple glow running down the center. He reached out and patted my shoulder, then turned and addressed the crowd.

“My name,” he began, “is Saint-14. More Fallen patrol these lands, but fear not. We will see you through to the Last City.”

At his words, two other figures emerged, the source of the shots echoing from each side of us. One was dressed similarly to Saint-14, the other wore a hood and a long cape flapped behind. A cheer erupted from the weary travelers, and hope was born anew.

All I could do was stare at the man called Saint. A fitting name for a guardian angel, one whose Light could burn the eyes of the evil ones that had come for us. I would have many encounters with Guardians after that, but none like that first, and none of them were like him. They say he is dead now, lost somewhere on Mercury. But I do not believe it. 

Who could kill an angel?


	13. I Remember You

I Remember You

 

“I remember something. From before, I mean.”

Hunter David Ryn pulled back from the scope on his sniper rifle and blinked to refocus. He had been so intent on sighting his target that he had missed whatever was just said. Glancing down from his perch in the tree, he looked to the source of the voice. Titan Lee Christoph was leaning heavily against the trunk, arms crossed over his broad chest. His right index finger was tapping against his left arm, a sound that David had managed to let fade into the background when the Titan had started doing it twenty minutes ago, yet now it drew all his attention.

How has he not drilled a hole in the metal yet, the Hunter thought before speaking up. “What did you say?”

“Really? How do you survive in the wild with that lack of awareness?”

“Well, I'm not usually trying to drown out the sound of someone banging away on armor the whole time I'm trying to take a shot.”

“Banging on...?” Lee noticed his own tapping, which he had been doing without being aware, and stilled his hand. “Better?”

“Much,” David replied. He slung his rifle over his back and dropped down to the ground. “Now, what was it you said?”

“I said,” Lee began, pushing off the from the tree and straightening up, “that I remembered something from my old life.”

“Are you sure?” The Hunter asked.

“Of course I'm sure. How would I not be sure?”

The two men began walking back toward the Tower. They'd been patrolling the area just outside the City walls for hours without seeing anything of interest. Time to call it a day and let someone else stare at nothing.

“I don’t know,” David shrugged. “Maybe it was a dream or something you imagined.”

“Ha, jokes on you,” the Titan replied, “I don't have that good of an imagination. I am serious about remembering something, though.”

“What was it you remembered and when?”

“It was after our last Crucible match a couple days ago,” Lee said. “And what I remembered was a woman. My wife.”

“You? Married?” David shook his head. “Definitely a dream then, I can't picture a woman going through with that.”

“Looks who's talking. I don't see women throwing themselves at you.”

“I'm a Hunter,” David said. “I'm alone most of the time by choice.”

“Just keep telling yourself that,” the Titan replied.

The Hunter sighed, “We're getting off track. Your supposed memory?”

“Yeah. So, we were in the Crucible and I got fried by that Stormcaller.”

“I remember. Put the nail in the coffin for that match.”

“Right. Anyway,” the Titan continued, “she electrocuted me, and I had this flash of memory. Just a few moments, but as vivid as anything I've ever seen with my own eyes. I was holding hands with a woman. Dark hair, brown eyes. She turned to me, and I took hold of the fingers of her other hand, and I clearly saw a large ring on her finger. She smiled, and then Vlad revived me.”

“A flash as you died?” The Hunter was skeptical.

“It's a thing,” Lee said defensively. “I've been looking into it ever since. There's a whole group of Warlocks that are dedicated to attempting to study what happens and things we might see when we die. Thanatonauts.”

“You? Listening to Warlocks?” David shook his head. “Now I know you're losing it.”

“Well, wait until you hear the next part,” Lee said, stepping in front of his companion to stop his progress. “With the match ending, the Warlock took off her helmet and it was her.”

“Her who?”

“My wife!” The Titan snapped. “The Warlock was the woman I saw in the memory. Somehow, the Traveler revived us both.”

“You know how unlikely something like that would be, right?”

“Of course. But it happened.”

David stopped and stared at his friend, wishing they were in the Tower with their helmets off so that he could see his eyes. There was a note of desperation mixed with manic energy in the Titan's voice, and it was a sound that he was not used to hearing from the larger man. This had really gotten to him.

“You've probably just seen her around the Tower before and subconsciously recalled her face when you heard her name in the match,” the Hunter said.

“I should have known you wouldn't believe me,” Lee muttered. “I should have gone to a Warlock. Forget the walk, I'm just going to transmat back. Give you your alone time you love so much.”

A black shape appeared near the Titan then. Vlad, his Ghost, making an appearance. There was a shimmer and both Ghost and Guardian disappeared from sight.

“You should probably follow him,” his Ghost, Akall, commented over internal comms.

“I know,” the Hunter sighed. “Give him a couple minutes to settle down and then transmat me to the Tower.”

David continued his trek toward the Tower in silence, wondering how to broach the subject without setting Lee off again. It was very rare for a Guardian to remember much of their old life, and something like this made him think that was probably a good thing. What good did it to do to remember those long dead? Lives you may have lived that were now gone forever?

“Transmatting,” Akall said eventually, and the Hunter felt the old sensation grip him, then release him again in the Tower.

“Where is he?” David asked his Ghost.

“Unknown. Vlad is not responding to any queries.”

The first place David decided to look was the Tower bar. Lee did not drink often, but the kind of mood he had been in when he left could have pushed him to it. He was not there, however. The next place he checked was the Titan's quarters. As he approached the room, he heard the strains of an acoustic guitar faintly floating through the door. He knocked.

“Go away!” a voice called from inside.

“Not gonna happen,” David replied.

“Fine,” the voice said, then the Hunter heard something very muffled that sounded like, “Vlad, get the door.”

David stepped inside to find a visibly upset Lee sitting in a large chair made of leather or a reasonable facsimile thereof. The Titan had stripped off the top half of his armor, but still wore his greaves and mark. Across his lap was an old guitar that they had found on patrol years ago. Lee had taken to it instantly and figured he must have been a musician of some sort in his old life.

“I saw her,” he said by way of introduction.

“Who?” The Hunter knew who he meant, but asked anyway.

“The Warlock,” Lee said, letting his fingers play a lonely melody on the guitar strings. “When I transmatted in, I headed for the bar, feeling like I needed a drink. I walked in and she was there in a booth toward the back of the room. With another Guardian. I had a sudden thought to go talk to her, tell her about my memory...”

“Please tell me you didn't do that,” David interrupted.

“No, I didn't,” the Titan replied, his hand coming to a stop and resting against the strings. “The other Guardian was a man. She... she kissed him. And not just a quick peck. They looked so happy sitting there, I couldn't do anything to mess that up.”

Lee took up his strumming again, and David stood near the door, unsure of what to do or say.

“She wouldn't have remembered me anyway, would she?”

“No,” Lee answered gently. “She probably wouldn't have.”

The Titan made a sound in the back of his throat and closed his eyes, losing himself in the music he was coaxing out of the stringed instrument. There was something indescribably sad in the tune. After a few moments, Lee made his way over to his friend and placed a hand on his shoulder.


	14. Towerfall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following story takes place alongside chapter 5 of "When the Sun Winds Down".

Towerfall

 

Despite the storm raging outside, things inside the Tower had been quiet. The previous few days, the home of the Guardians had been louder than usual, people excited about new developments, but then the storm rolled in. A more somber attitude reigned now, the weather keeping people indoors, the heavy and oppressive clouds lending a sense of gloominess that kept activity to a minimum. That was fine with Warlock Scott-20, as the sedate atmosphere was perfect for studying uninterrupted.

He'd been pouring through Guardian records, looking for any mentions of a Warlock named Darcel Bellamy. Apparently, the Warlock had gone rogue and a fireteam that Scott was associated with had been ordered to track him down. Claney, the leader of the team, had tasked him with gathering up any information that they could about their quarry. All he had known about Bellamy going in was his class, that he was known to associate with Dead Orbit, and had an unhealthy appreciation for the Taken. So far, he had turned up little else. Scott drummed his fingers on his desk, a sure sign of his frustration. There had to be more in the records, he just had to look in the right place.

“Casper,” he said to his Ghost, “take over the search, please. I'm going to step out for a moment.”

“Of course,” the Ghost replied.

Scott-20 rose from his desk and stepped out of his study. Being an Exo, the act of “getting fresh air” or “stretching his legs” was not really anything that could help the same way it might have if he was still human, but the human portion that remained still enjoyed it every now and again, and it could still be helpful to take a break when trying to solve a difficult problem. The Warlock moved aimlessly through the connecting hallways, letting his thoughts wander as he did so.

Eventually, he found himself standing near an open section with a view of the Last City. Scott turned his optics outward, watching as heavy raindrops bombarded it from the low-hanging cloud formations. There was one place where the rain conspicuously did not fall, directly beneath the Traveler. Sure, water from the rains flowed through there and soaked the ground eventually, but nothing fell directly there. Once more, the silent bulk of the Traveler shielding those below it.

Impulsively, Scott climbed up on the railing meant to keep people from walking off the edge of the platform. He removed one glove, pushed up his sleeve, and held out his hand, letting the rain fall on the offered appendage. He watched the water splash against the metal of his hand, pool in his palm, and run in rivulets around the sides of his hand. When some started to run down his arm, he pulled his hand back, shaking the water from it. He wiped the remaining dampness onto his cloak, put his glove back on, and returned to his study.

As he entered, Casper turned his single optic toward the door. His Ghost was much less talkative than others he had encountered, particularly Claney's Ghost, Elgan. Casper was more of a thinker, generally only speaking out loud out of neccesity or when he had something important to convey. That suited Scott just fine, as a constant narrative or string of one-liners would have grown wearisome over the years.

“Find anything?” Scott asked, striding to the desk.

“Yes,” the Ghost replied, bringing up certain listings on the screen. “I believe I have found where Bellamy stored all of his files. They are deeply encrypted, it will take some time to get into them.”

“Then let's get started,” the Warlock said.

The Ghost had not exagerrated. Bellamy was very good at trying to cover his tracks and keep his secrets. Unfortunately for him, Scott and Casper were better at ferreting them out. Eventually, the Warlock had access to everything the other had been doing when connected with Guardian mainframes. Which turned out to be a whole lot that the Consensus would not be happy about. 

The data contained file after file recording results of experimentation on the Taken. On attempts to discover the source of their energy. Attempts to use it. There were also records of his communications with Jalaal regarding his findings and leaving the Tower. Two lines would have chilled Scott to the bone, had he bones or a regular nervous system.

“I heard their song, for just a moment. I will hear it again.”

That sounded very similar to things that had been spoken about the Hive by the old exiled Warlock Toland. Not an obsession like Osiris', one that wanted to seek out and put an end to a threat, but a near worship of the thing they were supposed to stand against. Time to let Claney know what was going on.

“Casper, connect me to Claney.”

Casper beeped in affirmation and attempted to open a direct line to Claney's Ghost, but found it more difficult than expected.

“I'm getting heavy interference,” the Ghost told his Guardian. “Something seems to be wrong with long-range communication satellites. Trying again.”

It took several attempts, but the Ghost finally got through. Once the Titan answered, Scott tried to get directly to the point.

“Claney? I found somethings about Bellamy I think you should know.”

There was a burst of static through the line. Casper's shell bunched in frustration and the Ghost supplied more power to keep the signal open.

“Claney?” Scott tried again. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

“...tt? You... king... I can't... thin... ing,” came the garbled reply.

“Claney?”

“I lost the signal,” Casper said. “There is too much interference. Might be from the storm.”

“Keep trying,” the Warlock instructed. “Until then, we should probably let the Speaker know what we found, since he assigned this mission personally.”

Scott gathered all of Bellamy's files that connected to his study of the Taken and forwarded them to the Speaker. He also sent them to Claney in the off chance that it was able to reach him somehow even with voice communication not working properly. Satisfied he had done what he could for now, the Warlock leaned back in his chair. He interlaced his fingers, raised his arms, and brought his hands to the back of his head, closing his optics for a moment of quiet contemplation.

The quiet was short-lived, however. From somewhere came the distinctive sounds of explosions and the entire Tower shook. Books fell from shelves, scattered. Scott's chair tipped and he was thrown to the floor. Alerts began sounding all through the Tower. Another round of explosions shook the room hard, and a bookshelf fell heavily onto the Warlock. After his surprise wore off, Scott pushed the furniture aside.

“Casper, what was that?” the Warlock called, scrambling to his feet.

“Checking,” the Ghost said. “The Tower is currently under attack by an unknown force that emerged from the storm and immediately opened fire. There has been a call for all hands to battle stations!”

Scott scrambled to his feet and made his way to the door. It opened, but slowly. He pushed it hard to get it to clear out of his way, and heard a protesting sound from somewhere in the wall. Guardians were running up and down the corridor, heading to various posts. Scott himself did not have a specific post to man, so he headed for the plaza, the most obvious place for invaders to drop in. He held out his hand and Casper transmatted an auto rifle into his grip, brought his helmet into existence around his metallic features, and then phased into his armor.

The hallways were dimly lit, emergency lights shining all over. The Tower shook again as he ran forward, causing the Warlock to stumble briefly. Here and there he saw non-Guardians huddled, eyes filled with fear, but he moved past them for now. He emerged near the opening he had wandered to earlier in the day just as a Cabal ship drifted past. The sight caught him off guard and distracted him so that he almost did not see the approaching danger. 

Motion from the corner of his optic drew his attention and he turned. Three massive shapes charged at him, blades extended from their forearms. Cabal. The large aliens feet thudded against the ground as they closed the gap. Scott slapped his auto rifle against his back then whipped his hands forward, Arc energy springing from his fingertips. It quickly enveloped his form, lifting him from the ground. The Cabal hesitated from the briefest of moments, and that gave the Warlock all the time he needed.

Echoing the storm outside, lightning burst forth and tore through the three Cabal, killing them instantly. The immediate danger over, Scott's Stormtrance dissipated. As it did, Scott's optics drifted to the view of the city, taking in the sight of dozens of Cabal ships hovering overhead, firing at the City, the Tower, and Guardian ships that were attempting to rise to meet them. It was difficult to believe it was the same view he'd taken in only hours before.

“Casper, let me hear what is happening.”

Various radio signals began playing through the speakers in his helmet. Calls for help filled his audio receptors from Guardian and civilian sources. Casper cycled through channels until they heard the voice of Commander Zavala.

“Tower defenses are down; there are Cabal dropping in at will. We need to get everyone out now! Get all non-Guardian personnel to the evac shuttles immediately!”

“We saw some civilians a minute ago, let's get them out of here. Casper, show me a path to the nearest evac zone.”

“Calculating,” the Ghost responded. “Be advised, I cannot accurately tell yet where Cabal forces may be, nor do I have any updates on damaged or destroyed passages.”

“I'm aware.”

A marker appeared on Scott's HUD, showing him where he needed to be. Satisfied, he turned back the way he had come. He found a handful of civilian contractors, a family of three, and a mother with two children of her own and two other children she had been watching when the attack came. She had not heard anything from their parents yet.

Each time Scott-20 found someone, the relief in their face at seeing a Guardian made a major impression on the Warlock. These people were counting on him to get them out of a situation they had no control over. He silently vowed to pull them through it. 

Following the destination pin, Scott lead his ragtag band through the darkened corridors. An explosion rocked the Tower nearby, blowing a door open a few feet ahead of them, a gout of flame chasing after it. Scott held them up until it subsided a bit, then carried on. There were a few times they had to climb over or under some rubble, but managed to avoid the worst of the destruction.

At one point they rounded a corner and found two Cabal trying to pry open a sealed doorway. One of the people following Scott let out a gasp that the two aliens heard. They turned as one and grabbed their slug-throwers, but Scott opened fire first, gunning the two of them down.

Later, they came across a scared young man. He had managed to escape from some Cabal who had killed the rest of his family. One of the mothers attempted to reach out to him, to convince him to come with them, but he refused. Terror in his eyes, he ran deeper into the Tower.

Finally they reached their destination. The two children who were separated from their parents cried and had to be forced onto the shuttles. Scott watched each person board, and continued to watch until each shuttle had departed. They got the shuttles out just in time. A series of Cabal rockets slammed into the shuttle bay, destroying it entirely. 

The last thing Scott-20 saw was a massive explosion before his body was tossed like a smoking ragdoll across the room, slamming hard into the opposite wall.


	15. The Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place between "A Not so Simple Patrol" and "When the Sun Winds Down".
> 
> As always, Astrid belongs to Korfie. Little piece of fluff inspired by a comment she made in a conversation a good while back.

The Date

 

Titan Claney Beamard strode into the Vanguard command room, his eyes casting about the room, searching. A palpable look of relief washed over his face when he spotted his quarry, Hunter Vanguard Cayde-6, to the left behind a monitor. Normally, Ikora didn't let Cayde near that particular computer, but the Warlock Vanguard was not present and apparently the phrase, “When the cat's away, the mice will play,” was in effect today.

When Cayde noticed the footsteps approach, he popped up with a guilty start.

“I'm not doing anything!” he called out, then relaxed when he saw who it was. “Oh, hey, Guardian. I thought you were Zavala for a second there. What... uh... what's up?”

“I am so glad to see you,” the Titan exclaimed, striding over to the Hunter.

“You are?” Cayde questioned. “You know, people don't say that nearly enough.”

“Well,” Claney replied, “I will tell it to you every day from here to eternity if you can help me out. It's Celeste and Astrid.”

An expression Claney didn't quite catch flashed across Cayde's face, then disappeared. “Oh? Did Wild Child sneak out again?”

“What? No. That would be easier to deal with.” Claney shuffled about uncomfortably as he searched for the right words to say next. He whispered, “No, they're trying to set me up on a date. Mainly Astrid.”

Cayde-6 laughed out loud at this response, while the Titan's face turned a bright shade of red. Claney waved his hands furiously in a shushing motion, trying to calm the Hunter Vanguard down.

“This is serious, Cayde. They won't stop. Pretty much ever since I've been back up and active, Astrid has been hounding me to find a girlfriend. She thinks I'm lonely or something.”

“Are you?” Cayde asked.

“No,” the Titan shook his head. “Well, not exactly... I don't know. The point is, I want it to stop and I was hoping you could help me.”

“Me? Now what could little old me do?”

“You can talk to them. Celeste is one of your Hunters, and you have a special bond with Astrid. Tell them to leave me alone.”

“I'll see what I can do,” Cayde said with all the seriousness he could muster. “You go on back to teaching the new Titans how to punch stuff and I'll have a word with the two of them.”

Cayde patted Claney on the back and sent the Titan on his way. As soon as the red-headed man was out of the room, Cayde burst out into gales of laughter.

“Oh, this is even better than what I was going to do to Ikora's computer,” the Exo said before asking his Ghost to contact the two girls. He just found the answer to today's boredom.

…

The next morning, Claney stepped out of his quarters to find Celeste leaning against the wall opposite his door, arms crossed over her chest and a suspicious smile on her face. Claney glanced up and down the hall, but didn't see Astrid with her. It was possible she was with the Anusky's, though she rarely left Celeste's side when the Hunter was in the Tower.

“Mornin', Old Man,” Celeste greeted him, straightening up.

“Good morning,” Claney said, suspicion clear in his voice. “How long have you been standing out here?”

“Oh, just a few minutes,” she replied. “Thought I'd see if you wanted to get some breakfast before you start training the kinderguardians today.”

“Breakfast sounds good,” Claney admitted and started down the hallway. Celeste fell in step beside him.

“Soooo... I got the oddest call from Cayde-6 yesterday,” the Hunter said. “It seemed some cranky old Titan was complaining about me harassing him recently. I, of course, professed complete innocence, not knowing what he could possibly be talking about.”

“And?”

“And what?” the Hunter asked, batting her eyes at the Titan.

Claney sighed. “You're not going to stop, are you?”

“Nope,” Celeste grinned. “I happen to agree with Astrid on this one. All you do is train the newbies or stay in your room. You need more of a life than that. Besides, I'm sure having a woman in your life could do you some good.”

“I'm starting to think I might have too many females in my life already,” Claney muttered, which brought a laugh from Celeste. “Besides, Astrid's ten. What does she know about it anyway?”

“Let no one despise you for your youth,” Celeste stated in a stern voice. “Pretty sure you quoted that at me when I was worried no one would take me seriously as a Guardian when I first arrived at the Tower.”

As Celeste spoke, the two of them emerged from the corridor into daylight. Whatever reply Claney would have offered was cut short as a weight slammed into his back. Caught off guard, Claney staggered a little. Small, scarred hands covered his eyes.

A voice demanded, “Guess who!”

“Good morning, Astrid,” Claney said as he regained his balance.

“We have a winner,” Astrid announced, uncovering his eyes. The young Titan scrambled up Claney's back until she was perched up on his shoulders. “Onward, my noble steed! To breakfast!”

Claney couldn't help but chuckle, reaching up a hand to pat her shin. “Sure thing, Little Bit.”

That brought a playful slap to back of his skull. The three of them continued onward, taking a lift down to the Last City. They settled on a place Celeste suggested, with the Hunter claiming that it had the best pancakes.

Claney lifted Astrid from his shoulders and set her down as they reached the door. Stepping inside, they could hear the chatter of patrons enjoying their meals. The restaurant was lively, with wait staff bustling from table to table, but not so busy that they had to wait long to get seated. Celeste's eyes were roaming over the crowd as if searching for something. A small smile creased her lips as the trio was lead to their place.

They settled down into their seat and Claney picked up a menu. Celeste silently caught Astrid's eye and pointed at someone across the way. Astrid turned to look, then whipped her head back around and nodded. The motion caught Claney's attention, and he looked up from the menu as the child. Astrid gave him the cheesiest grin she could manage.

Claney glanced between Astrid and Celeste, then set the menu down. “Okay, what's going on?”

“Going on?” Celeste echoed. “Why, nothing at all.”

“Spill.”

“Okay, okay,” Celeste said, raising her hands in surrender. She gestured toward the opposite corner of the room. “You see her over there?”

Claney followed the gesture. Seated alone at a table was a woman with short black hair that was pulled back away from her face. Her eyes were a bight blue that stood out from her pale skin. 

“Yes...”

“We set you up with her. You've got a date on Friday,” Celeste said with a grin.

“You did what?”

“Cayde helped,” Astrid added loud enough that several other patrons turned their head to their table. Including the woman in question.

“Of course he did,” Claney grumbled. “Excuse me a moment.”

Claney rose from the seat and started to move the woman that the girls had indicated. Astrid scooted to the end of her seat so that she could peer around and watch what was happening. Celeste leaned in with interest as well. The older Titan strode across the room, painfully aware of the two of them staring holes in his back.

“Excuse me,” he said again as he reached the table. The woman looked up at him. “I'm sorry to bother you, but may I speak with you a moment?”

“Certainly,” the woman said, indicating the seat across from her.

“My name is Claney,” he began.

“I know,” she replied. “I'm Dallyce. Dallyce Lua.”

“Hi,” Claney cleared his throat and shifted slightly in his seat. “I... sorry, this is a little awkward.”

“It's okay,” Dallyce replied with a crooked smile.

“It seems my daughter and her-” Friend? Ward? “-sidekick have set us up on a date later this week.”

“Yes. I'm looking forward to it.”

“Well, I... You are?”

“Yeah. Crimson Doubles are starting up again, and I need a good partner. I thought it might be a fun way to let off some steam.”

“Oh. Well then. Doubles sounds fun.”

“And then perhaps dinner and a night in the City?”

“I think that could work. It, uh, it was nice to meet you, Dallyce.”

“You too, Claney,” the woman said. “See you Friday?”

“See you Friday,” the Titan said before rising to return to his table.

“So, how'd it go?” Celeste asked as Claney sat back down.

“Apparently I have a partner for some Crimson Doubles.”

“Yes!” whooped Astrid, jumping up in her seat.

That brought every eye in the restaurant in their direction again. Claney just tried to hide his reddening face behind a napkin.


	16. The Collector

The Collector

 

“How can any one person lose that often? I mean, seriously, the math says you should at least win occasionally.”

Hunter Ania Solezulam narrowed her yellow eyes at the source of the voice. “You're not helping, Ricardo.”

“I disagree,” Warlock Ricardo Melendez said. “If I can convince you of how astronomically, improbably horrendous you are at these games, perhaps you'll stop wasting all of our team's glimmer, which would be a big help.”

The Hunter across the table snickered as he scraped his winnings together. It was his turn to get a glare from Ania now. No one liked a gloater.

“I suppose you think you could do better?” Ania asked the Warlock. “Feel free to try.”

“A blind Dreg with all four arms docked could do better,” Ricardo sniffed.

“Well that's just mean.”

Ania waved off the other Hunter when he silently offered another game. He shrugged before standing and walking off to find another challenger. Ricardo took an off-balance step and settled into the abandoned seat, folding his gangly legs under the table. Ania shook her head at the awkward movements.

“How do you not fall down and blow yourself up with your own Nova Bomb?”

“Trade secret,” the Warlock retorted.

Ania rolled her eyes at the remark. “One day it will happen, and I am going to laugh so hard.”

“Unlikely,” Ricardo said, shifting in his seat a little and changing the subject. “Have you seen Barin yet?”

The Warlock was referring to Barin-23, the third member of their squad. He was supposed to have met the two of them at the bar earlier, but had not shown up yet. It was actually his tardiness that had allowed Ania the time to engage in the card game in the first place, so, in a way, it was really the Titan's fault she had lost some of their glimmer.

“Not -” the Hunter began, then stopped at the sound of broken glass behind her. “Never mind. There he is.”

Ania pointed over her shoulder without looking. Ricardo followed the finger to see the Exo standing near the bar staring in open disbelief at his hands, his Ghost hovering over his shoulder. Liquid was running over his fingers and dripping onto shattered glass that lay in a growing puddle on the floor. Barin stood there staring until a frame wielding a broom came and pushed him out of the way so that it could clean. 

Forced from his spot, the Titan looked around and noticed his friends. He said something to the bartender. Giving a helpless shrug, he made his way over to them.

“That's the fifth glass you've broken in the last two days,” his Ghost said as they approached.

“It's your fault,” the Titan replied. “Last time you revived me, you screwed up. You tightened the servos in my hand too much or something, I can't control it.”

“Don't blame me,” the little drone said. “You just weren't paying attention.”

“You do tend to break things,” Ricardo commented. “Almost as often as Ania loses our glimmer.”

“You're taking his side?” the Titan asked, wounded.

“No sides, just observations,” the Warlock said.

The Titan mumbled something under his breath and waved to a waiter. A short while later, a replacement drink was brought over to him. Moving in an exaggerated parody of caution, Barin gingerly lifted the cup to drink. Thus, he managed to take a drink and set the cup back down safely.

“I would have bet anything that you would have broken that cup too,” Ania said.

“Yet another one you would have lost,” Ricardo mumbled, earning himself a swift kick in the shins.

“So,” the Awoken woman said, turning her yellow eyes to Barin, “why were you late?”

“Oh, I, uh, just had to finish taking care of something,” the Exo said, stumbling over the weak reply.

“Something?” the Hunter questioned, sensing a trail that she wanted to follow.

“Yeah, just something. A little thing. But here I am, and you said you had a mission for us.”

Ania stared at the Titan for a moment, sure he would be sweating under the scrutiny if he were organic. She decided to let it go, however. For now.

“Right. New Monarchy is looking for someone to go pick something up for them. Someone was testing out some new scanner for them and detected a concentration of some valuable materials that Executor Hideo wants to put to use in his weapons foundries. Besides the general risk of Fallen scavengers, apparently there are scattered reports of Taken in the area, so Hideo is paying a pretty penny.”

“So, it's a fetch quest?” the Titan asked, scrunching the plates of his face in displeasure.

“Yes, but we need the glimmer,” the Hunter replied.

“I wonder why that is,” Barin commented.

The remark would have bought him a kick in the shins as well, except Ania didn't feel like breaking her toes just now. Instead, she pouted and indicated the Warlock, “Don't you take his side.”

“I say we take the job,” Ricardo chimed in. “If the material is that valuable to the Executor, I might like to take a quick look at it myself before we hand it over.”

Barin looked back and forth between the two of them. Ania waggled her red eyebrows at him. 

“Fine, fine,” the Titan said, giving in. “Let's go get Hideo his junk.”

“That's the spirit,” Ania said, reaching over to slap his arm. 

Unfortunately, Barin had just been lifting his cup to take a drink. The unexpected contact caused his grip to tighten, shattering another glass. He watched the liquid dripping from his fingers yet again in despair. He turned his optics back to the Hunter, the sense of betrayal clear despite Exo's limited expressive capabilities.

“Oops,” the Hunter offered with an apologetic shrug.

The Titan rose with a grumble and then stomped out in a huff. Ania eased out of her seat to follow. Ricardo got tangled up with the chair legs, but managed to extract himself before hurrying to catch up. As they walked, their Ghosts made plans to have their ships prepped for launch. 

“So, where're we going?” Barin asked.

“Old Russia,” Ania replied. “Just outside of the Cosmodrome. They think the hit came from an old Golden Age crash, maybe even one of the colony ships that was trying to escape the Darkness.”

“If that is true, there could be much more of value there than just the Executor's material,” Ricardo interjected.

“Which means more glimmer for us,” Ania said. “Aren't you glad you let me pick the missions?”

By the time the trio made it to the hangar, everything was in place. They quickly trasmatted aboard, and then left the Tower behind. The trip was a quick one, and close to familiar flight lines. Another transmat, and the fireteam found themselves standing in a clearing surrounded by trees. It looked like this are had been growing undisturbed for a very long time. The three Guardians looked around, trying to decide where to begin when Ania noticed the signs of past trauma in the terrain.

“There,” she said, pointing.

Untold years of erosion had worn down some of the jaggedness of the rocks, but the path the crashing ship had gouged into the surface was still visible beneath the green growth that had since reclaimed the land. It was wide enough that someone might have mistaken it for a natural formation if they had not been specifically looking for a crash. To leave this large of a mark, it had to be one of the colony ships. Ania and Ricardo both felt a thrill at the realization, if for different reasons.

The three of them followed the damaged terrain, seeking the source of the alterations. Eventually, they came to a massive mound of dirt and rock. Visible through the rubble, and once again every easy to miss if you weren't looking for it, they could see the backside of ship.

“As it struck the ground, it must have plowed up enough dirt to nearly bury itself completely,” Ricardo said, stepping closer. The Warlock reached out, placing his palm flat against the exposed surface. “From out here I don't see a breach. There's a good chance this hasn't been already stripped by the Fallen like so many other relics.”

“Well, let's get inside and see what we can see,” Ania said, placing her hands on her hips.

The trio of Guardians searched the exposed surfaces of the ship, looking for anything that led inside. Eventually, they found a damaged panel. Barin-23 punched his fingers through the weakened metal. Gripping it tightly, he pulled and tugged, the skin of the ship groaning in protest as it was peeled backward. He tore it free and tossed it aside, leaving a dark hole in the hull.

“Ladies first,” he said, indicating the opening.

Ania took hold of her cloak and mock curtsied before stepping through. Her Ghost appeared over her shoulder, its light flaring to life, illuminating the dark corridors of the ship. Two more lights speared into the shadows at the other two Ghosts did the same. A crash behind them caused Barin and Ania to while around. The beam of their Ghosts lights landed on Ricardo, sprawled across the floor.

“Just tripped on my way in. I'm fine,” the Warlock said, standing and dusting off his olive green robes.

“Gonna blow yourself up with your own Nova Bomb,” Ania said in a sing-song manner, just loud enough to be overheard before changing her tone. “It could take an entire team weeks to go over everything we could find in here. Let's split up and search, use the scan data to find what we're looking for, then call the others. Try not to get too sidetracked.”

The last words were aimed at the Warlock, who just waved her off. “I can catalog data and find our material at the same time.”

“Sure thing, Stretch,” Barin said. “Don't worry, after we get it all transmatted out, we'll come dig you out of the computer system. Probably.”

“Make sure you're taking passive scans while you're looking around,” Ania called to the two men as she set off down a corridor. “We have no records left regarding these ships and their construction. I'm sure future teams looking for loot would appreciate a detailed map of the place. Might even be worth some glimmer.”

She disappeared into the darkness. The other two Guardians looked at each other with a shrug and set off in opposite directions. Once they were a few meters in, their Ghosts started pinging off the material that New Monarchy sought. There were several small traces scattered throughout the ship. Whatever it was, it wasn't going to lead to mass production.

Ricardo speculated about what it was and its use. He noticed that it did seem to be connected with the ship's circuitry in some way. Noticing what seemed to be a slightly larger deposit, he decided to skip others and following it, hoping it would lead to something worth investigating.

His goal turned out to be the ship's AI core. Whatever was in these circuits, New Monarchy must want it for something related to a similar purpose. Perhaps to try to outdo whatever the upstart Veist was promising with their smart weapons they were beginning to produce. The Warlock had his Ghost attempt to interface with the AI, but without result. Either the AI was dead, or it simply didn't have power. Shame, talking with a Golden Age intelligence would have been quite the experience, he thought.

Ania took a winding route through the ship, trying to record as much of the passage as she could while also tagging the material for transmat. Visions of all the glimmer she could get it she spent a little more time gathering stuff here danced in her head. Too bad the Executor had specifically asked for the retrieval to go as quickly as possible.

Of course, they could always just come right back and look around again before telling anyone else about the ship.

The Hunter froze suddenly when she heard the sound of something shattering in the distance. Could someone else be aboard the ship? She dismissed the thought right away. No way anyone could have survived, and there was no sign anyone else had found the wreck before them.

Silently, Ania moved in the general direction of the sound. She hesitated at a crossways, then heard another banging noise that solidified the path for her in her mind. As the sounds drew nearer, she had her Ghost deactivate its light, creeping forward in the dark.

Rounding another bend, a faint, bobbing light became visible. Approaching, she saw that it was the light of another Ghost. Barin. Confirming it was her teammate allowed the Hunter to relax. She was about to have her Ghost turn its beam back on, when she stopped in curiosity. What was the Titan up to?

Barin didn't seem to be actively searching out their bounty. Instead, he was snooping around in what appeared to be civilian quarters. Ania remained in the shadows, watching him through narrowed eyes.

The Titan was at the far side of the room, looking at something just out of the Hunter's vision. Whatever it was, he was being very careful not to damage it. He appeared to gather a few items together, and then Ania heard the unmistakable sound of a transmat. Barin seemed to be going into business for himself, trying to cut the others out of something. Ania would not have believed him capable of that level of duplicity.

Ania backed up carefully, sliding around the bend in the corridor again before having her Ghost reactivate its light. She then sauntered down the hallway, heading back to where she had seen Barin. The Titan nearly jumped out of his yellow metal skin when he turned around and saw her.

“Oh, hi, hey, just taking a look around” he said in a rush.

“You don't say.”

“Yeah. Tagged a couple samples of what we came for along the way. Think we might have enough for Hideo yet?”

The Hunter paused as if silently communicating with her Ghost. “Yep, looks like we're good.”

“Okay then. What say we blow this popsicle stand, then, huh?” 

“Yes, lets.”

They contacted Ricardo and the Warlock met them back where they first entered the ship. He seemed to notice something going on between the other two, as he glanced back and forth between them a couple times. Ania gave him a subtle shake of her head.

Not now.

The three Guardians transmatted back to their respective ships and set off toward the Tower. Once she was out of earshot of Barin, Ania opened a private line to Rico, letting him know what she saw. Together, they decided on a course of action.

They dropped into the Tower courtyard and made their way to New Monarchy's usual section of the Tower. Executor Hideo was present, and was very happy to see what they had managed to recover. He transferred the bounty payment to their account, then excused himself. Their business concluded, the fireteam left the area as well.

“Hey, how about we spend a little of that glimmer on a celebratory drink,” Ania suggested. “I'll even dip into my part of the reward to buy you a metal cup so you don't shatter another one, Barin.”

“Sounds good to me,” Ricardo chimed in.

“I, uh, think I'll pass,” Barin replied. “I've got something I need to take care of in my quarters.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe we'll come hang out with you then,” Ania suggested.

Barin stiffened, almost imperceptibly. Almost. “Rain-check? I kind of need a little time to myself.”

Ania stepped in front of him and froze, her yellow eyes intense. “Oh, but I insist.”

“What's going on?” Barin asked.

“You tell us,” Ania said. “I saw you on the ship taking something. Why don't you let us see, and then I'll decide whether or not I rip that horn off your forehead.”

Barin turned his optics to Ricardo as if seeking assistance, but found nothing there. He seemed to consider his options for several seconds before sighing. “Fine. Follow me.”

The Titan led his two companions back across the courtyard and down to Guardian living quarters. They shadowed him down the hallway and to his door. None of them said a word the entire time. Once at the door, Barin hesitated. He started to turn and opened his mouth as if to say something, but stopped himself when he saw the look on Ania's face. He opened the door and stepped inside.

In the front room stood a large, metal shape. The other two knew of his propensity for taking scrap metal and reworking it into sculptures, though it was rare they saw one as a work in progress. Barin only ever liked to show them off once they were complete. This one looked like it might eventually be a trio of Guardians. Maybe something for the upcoming Festival of the Lost?

Barin walked past the sculpture, through the living room, and to his bedroom door. He hesitated again before opening it and leading the other two in. Once in the room, he held out his hand, and his Ghost emerged.

“Show them what we found,” he whispered. The Ghost bobbed a nod and complied.

On the nightstand, two misshaped figurines appeared.

“What are those?” Ania asked, dumbfounded.

“Bobble heads,” the Titan replied, gently flicking the over-sized head of one of the figures, which nodded enthusiastically.

“I don't understand what is happening right now,” Ricardo said, his face openly expressing his confusion.

“I collect them,” Barin said. The Exo stepped across the room and pulled back a sliding door, revealing shelves stacked with the odd little creations.

Ania and Ricardo stared.

“I saw these two on ship and had to have them. I think I may have broken something climbing over to get them. I had hoped there might be more where they came from, but I moved everything nearby, and found nothing.”

The other two watched as Barin very carefully lifted the two figures and places them in an empty space on one of the shelves. That image was the straw that finally broke the camel's back, and Ania could not take it anymore.

She burst into gales of laughter.

Barin's faceplates shifted into a look of pain. Ricardo turned his face from the bobble heads and now stared at the Awoken woman with the same level of confusion he had given the dolls. This was a side of her that he had never seen.

“I really don't understand what is happening right now,” the Warlock muttered.

“I... I am so... so sorry, Barin,” Ania managed through the laughter. “I really am. I just... I can't... The little dolls... and you trying so hard not to break them... and I thought you were trying to cheat us... I... I have to go...”

The Hunter staggered out of the room, laughing. She was struggling so much, she tripped over her own feet and tumbled into the other room. Through the doorway, the two men heard her voice drift back.

“Oww. I think I fell on my knife.”

“Well, now I really think I've seen everything,” Ricardo said, shaking his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story and characters suggested to me by fanfiction.net user Marcellasnow231.
> 
> I almost took this in an entirely different direction that involved a character death. Then I remembered that these weren't my characters. Here is a glimpse at what I wrote of that original idea (which would have come near the end).
> 
> Nearly one year after the Red War.
> 
> Barin-23 put the last of the sculptures on the mobile platform. He pressed a button and the lifters underneath fired up, which would allow the platform to hover half a meter off the ground. Exos don't need to breathe, but their bodies often simulate it as part of the process of keeping the human mind in the machine sane. Barin held his artificial breath as his creations lifted from the ground.
> 
> The sculptures remained steady.
> 
> Barin released the pent up air and pressed another button, causing the platform to drift forward. Everything seemed to be satisfactory. His addition to the ceremony tomorrow would work exactly as it should. Another press and the platform settled back to the ground. Barin gave each other statues a final inspection.
> 
> Ania stepped up behind Barin, wrapping her arms around one of his and resting her head against his broad shoulder. “It's beautiful. You know he would absolutely hate this, right?”
> 
> “Yeah, I know.”
> 
> The statue representing Ricardo Melendez was positioned at the nose of the platform, nearly a full head taller than those behind him.


	17. Binary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This entry takes place between A Not so Simple Patrol and When the Sun Winds Down.

AN: This story takes place between A Not so Simple Patrol and When the Sun Winds Down.

 

Binary

 

Rage is an easy emotion to latch on to.

Rage can provide a number of different things for a person. Fuel to drive them forward. Determination to push past obstacles. A shield to keep away everyone and everything else that could get close enough to cause pain. The ability to burn away other feelings that might try to drag a person down. Or, when someone is consumed by it, it at least provides the illusion of these things.

For Zillah Arvid, it had been a constant companion and a shield against her own insecurities. If anything negative happened, anything stopped her from reaching a goal, she had been able to tap into that rage to overcome and press on. It had worked for her for many years, helping her achieve her goals and meet every challenge she faced. Defeating enemies. Winning sparrow races. Crucible victories. Clinging to that fire inside her had worked very well.

Until it didn’t. Until the Reef.

She had felt drawn to the home of the Awoken, as if the Queen herself had spoken to her. Yet when she had arrived, they had rejected her. The Queen had refused to speak with her. When that happened, the rage was waiting.

Zillah took on every challenge they presented her. She hunted down Wolves when they betrayed the Queen. She entered the Prison of Elders and fought her way through every wave of enemies that came at her, diffused every mine. Yet, no matter how hard she fought, they still rejected her. Her anger had failed her.

Suddenly, every insecurity, every fear that the burning fire had kept at bay now clawed their way into her mind. She wasn’t good enough. Her connection to the Light not strong enough. She had nowhere to turn. And so a darkness settled over her, bitterness replacing rage as her one constant.

Then Queen Mara Sov and Prince Uldren disappeared.

For a time, Zillah sought to discover their fate. She thought if she could return them home, that it would finally bring her the acceptance from the Awoken that she had been denied. She set out to solve the mystery, and instead found something else. She found acceptance in an unlikely group of Guardians and helped stop a major threat to the system. She thought she had found a home, before the betrayal happened.

Once again, she was set adrift, and latched on to something else. Lady Efrideet and her colony of Lightbearers who had walked away from the conflict. If Zillah was torn by trying to find a place where she belonged, pulled in multiple directions, maybe the best choice was just to walk away from everything. Maybe distance could put everything else in perspective.

So that was what she did. Zillah followed Efrideet out to the Outer Rim.

Now the Warlock knelt on a small chunk of rock with no atmosphere, her hands placed on her thighs and her eyes closed. She had been in that position for hours. From the outside, it gave the appearance of serenity. Inside the suit, however, was an entirely different story. 

Zillah was trying to completely clear her mind, though she found the task more difficult than she would have expected. The two warring callings that had pulled at her, the Light and the Awoken, refused to silence themselves. Anger flared at both the feeling of being trapped in the middle and her own inability to quietly focus, and she had to fight to push that down as well. She grimaced, her lips tightening to a thin line.

“This is useless,” she muttered, opening her amber-colored eyes.

“Efrideet didn’t seem to think so,” Feivel, her Ghost, responded.

“She’s a Hunter, what does she know?” 

“If you really felt that way, you wouldn’t have come out here.”

“You’re not allowed to be logical when I’m venting,” Zillah replied.

“Then when would the opportunity present itself?”

The Awoken woman rolled her eyes at that. Were Feivel physically present rather than dissipated into her suit, she might have been tempted to swat at him. As it was, there was little she could do but sigh.

“Why am I even out here?” Zillah asked rhetorically.

In typical fashion, her Ghost answered. “You were trying to find focus.”

“Not here,” the Warlock replied. “Here.”

To emphasize the last word, she moved her hands from her legs and gestured all around. The Ghost’s “eye” followed the motion, taking in their surroundings, one asteroid among many adrift in a sea of stars. Not far were larger bodies where the colony actually resided.

“Same answer,” he replied.

Zillah opened her mouth to reply, then stopped herself. He had been right about that. The wider lens of the solar system hadn’t offered that to her yet, though maybe it needed more time or a slightly different approach.

She turned her head until she located the Sun. From here, it was barely larger than the other stars, though noticeably brighter. The Earth was merely a faint speck, easily missed among so many others. She stared on those two dots for several seconds before closing her eyes and taking in a long, slow breath.

This time, she didn’t try to clear her mind. Instead, she focused on whatever image presented itself. The first thing that came to mind was the Traveler, hanging silent and broken over the Last City. In her thoughts, she was flying just above its scarred surface, sailing close enough to reach out and touch it. She let her fingers drag across it as she soared around the sphere, and felt nothing. No spark, no pull.

As she rounded the massive shape of it, her eyes drifted toward the City. Specifically, they moved to the Tower at its center. At the top of the Tower was an open plaza, and in the center of that plaza and looking at the Traveler, at her, was a familiar figure in fur-trimmed armor that glowed faintly in places. The figure removed his helmet, revealing closely cropped red hair and intense blue eyes...

“Traveler’s crack!” Zillah cursed, her eyes snapping open again.

“What?” Feivel asked.

“Nothing,” she said, pushing that final image from her mind. “I’m done here. Get me back to the ship, please.”

She stood and the transmat caught her. She dropped into the pilot’s chair, steering the ship at low power back to the colony. It was a short journey, and the ship was quickly docked then Zillah felt the effect of the transmat again. Boots on the ground, the Warlock set out to find people. She’d been alone with her thoughts enough for one day.

“Zillah!” Efrideet had spotted her first, calling to her with a wave.

The Warlock turned to the Iron Lady. Zillah was not the historian that others were, but she had read and studied enough of the history of the Risen to be aware of the identities and exploits of some of the more legendary figures. Seeing people like Zavala, Ikora Rey, Lord Shaxx, and Saladin Forge, all prominent figures in the story of the Guardians and the Last Safe City, had become commonplace. Even so, it was still slightly surreal to be around one of the legends who had supposedly died over a century ago. Maybe that was what it felt like to normal people or the Awoken on those rare occasions they saw a Guardian that they had known in their previous life.

“Hello, Efrideet,” Zillah offered as a greeting.

“I heard you had taken an excursion,” the Hunter began. “Did you decide to try my suggestion?”

“Yes, though I didn’t have much luck.”

“Hmm,” Efrideet stood in thought for a moment, then continued. “Walk with me?”

Zillah nodded and fell in behind Efrideet as the Hunter began walking. They passed through a large common area, with Efrideet either greeting or returning greetings from everyone they passed along the way. It left the Warlock feeling oddly exposed and uncomfortable.

“Perhaps our approach has been wrong from the beginning,” Efrideet said once they were alone again. “Since you’ve been here, we’ve tried giving you suggestions on how or where to meditate and clear your mind. You’ve been willing to try just about everything we’ve thrown at you, but maybe that isn’t what you need.”

“What do you mean?”

“You said that you felt like you were losing your connection to the Light. So maybe the answer is as simple as using the Light.”

“How so?”

“Well,” Efrideet said, “you know our approach here to the Light is different than what you’ll find in the City. Light can be used for so much more than a weapon. Even there, some Guardians seem to understand this as many Warlocks use their Light for healing.”

“I am familiar with the notion of Sunsingers,” Zillah replied, a hint of annoyance in her voice.

“So what if we tried connecting with the Light in a different way?” Efrideet continued unfazed.

At that, Feivel made an appearance and floated in front of the Hunter. “In a different way?” he echoed.

“You’ll see,” Efrideet replied.

They entered an area comprised of living quarters and stopped outside one of the rooms. Efrideet rapped her knuckles against the door and waited. A few seconds later, the door opened, revealing the room’s occupant, an Awoken man with grey skin, dark, swept back hair, and white eyes.

“Zillah, this is Kado. Kado, Zillah.”

“Hello,” Kado said with a nod that Zillah returned.

“Mind if we step inside?” Efrideet asked. 

Kado moved from the doorway and gestured for them to enter. The two women stepped inside, and Zillah glanced around the room. It looked comfortable enough, though light on decor. The only thing she noticed that was clearly decorative was an odd piece in the corner that reminded her of the Reef.

“Kado has been with us a while,” Efrideet said, bring Zillah’s focus back to her. “He used to be a Warlock, and has probably spent more time studying the nature of Light than anyone I’ve met in a very long time.”

“You flatter me,” the Kado said.

“Don’t play modest,” Efrideet admonished. “Kado, Zillah has a unique problem that I think you might be able to help her with.”

“I will do what I can,” he replied.

“Great. I’ll leave you to it, then.” Efrideet look at Zillah. “Come find me later and let me know what you think.”

With that, the Hunter swept out of the room, leaving the two Awoken alone. Kado turned his attention to Zillah who shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

“Please, have a seat,” Kado gestured to the chairs he had arranged in the living area, taking a seat in one at an angle to the others.

Zillah took the seat furthest from the one he had chosen. If Kado noticed, or thought anything about that, he gave no indication. Instead, he studied her face. As he did, he steepled his fingers, tapping the tips of his index fingers together.

“I can see that you are troubled,” he said after several moments passed. “What is this ‘unique problem’ that Efrideet mentioned?”

There was a pause, where Zillah studied the man as intently as he had studied her. Looking into those bright, white eyes, she didn’t sense any scorn or pity, merely curiosity and an honest desire to help. So she unburdened herself.

She didn’t intend to tell Kado as much as she did, but once she opened her mouth, it was as if a dam had burst, spilling forth everything that it had held back. She told him things she had never told another person. Not even Claney, who had seen her at her worst and had been the first person she’d shared any of this with. She spoke of hearing Queen Mara Sov in her mind, calling out to Awoken Guardians, of being rejected at every turn by the Awoken. She talked about feeling detached from the Traveler, about her Light failing. About the need she had felt to be accepted by the Awoken. She ended her tail with the Transmission crisis. Anything beyond that point was irrelevant to the issue at hand.

Kado listened, and if he noticed the abrupt end of her story, he once again didn’t mention it.

“It is known,” Kado said, his voice low and smooth, “that the Awoken, or at least a small portion of them, do possess some psionic abilities. Telekinesis. Telepathy. It is entirely possible that Queen Sov could have sent some sort of message, though I personally never detected such a thing. I personally know no other Guardians who have mentioned any such occurrence either. This does not mean it didn’t happen, merely that we did not experience it.

“For it to affect your connection with the Traveler, it would have to be a powerful thing. Since it is so singular to you, perhaps you had a strong connection with Mara Sov in you previous life. It would be an interesting prospect to look into, given the opportunity.

“That is unimportant at the moment, however. What we want to look at is your Light, and I have a thought on the matter.” He rose to his feet, then gestured away from the chairs. “Please?”

Kado strode to the center of the room and stood expectantly. Zillah hesitated, then rose and walked over to join him.

“First,” he said and held out his hands. There was the shimmer of a transmat, and then a crystalline object, roughly cylindrical in shape, appeared on his outstretched palms.

“Is that…” Zillah trailed off, her eyes widening.

“A fragment of the Traveler. Yes.”

“How did you get that?”

“The Traveler was badly wounded during the collapse. There are pieces scattered in many places.”

“I know that,” she replied. “But I also know that the Speaker and Vanguard were very careful to try to find as many of them as they could. Which proved to be a good idea, given that the Hive were found with a large fragment that they were using to harm the Traveler.”

Kado smiled. “Well, I don’t exactly report to the Vanguard, do I?”

“I suppose not.”

“Take it,” he said, extending his hands to her.

Zillah reached for the fragment. She hesitated for a brief moment before wrapping her fingers around it. Holding it, she could feel the Light flowing through it. At the same time, Feivel materialized and hovered over it, a beam of Light emerging from his eye and sweeping over the piece.

“What do you feel?”

“The Light.”

“Anything else?”

Zillah considered the question, closing her eyes and focusing on the shape in her hands. “No.”

Zillah heard the sound of footsteps and opened her eyes. Kado had moved across the room, over to where she had seen the items that looked like they had come from the Reef. He picked something up and strode back to where she stood.

“Now take this.” He held out his hand again, in it was clasped a small statue that looked like one of the Queen’s Techeuns.

Zillah carefully handed back the fragment of the Traveler and took the newly offered item. Once her hand was on it, she could feel the Light in it as well. There was something else there too. Something she couldn’t put her finger on at first.

“What do you feel now?”

“The Light again. And something else.”

“That is the Darkness.”

As soon as Kado said the word, the connection that Zillah’s mind hadn’t been able to make clicked. She had felt a similar feeling when battling the Hive and Taken. She peered at the item intently, then closed her eyes, focusing on the interplay between Light and Dark in the object.

“What is this?” she asked.

“An Awoken artifact,” Kado replied. “Beyond that, I have not been able to ascertain. I know it is important, but none of the Awoken that I have spoken to over the years have been willing to reveal its purpose.”

The Warlock turned the item over in her hands. As she let her mind focus, she began to feel a familiar pull, as if she was being called home. She tried to concentrate on that feeling, but it never became anything more than the faintest of whispers. She opened her eyes and offered it back to Kado.

“While these are fascinating objects, I really don’t get the point of this.”

“The point? You could look at it a few different ways. One, you were able to sense the Light, both in the fragment and in the artifact. That proves that you have not lost your connection, and are still more sensitive to it than you may have thought. Alternatively, the balance of Light and Dark in the Awoken statue could be a model of how you could find balance between the calls of the Light and the Awoken within yourself. Or maybe there isn’t a point other than to get your mind thinking about something other than your own frustrations for a little while.”

Zillah stared at the man, and then laughed in spite of herself.

“There is something else I can do for you, however.” Kado said. “The actual reason Efrideet brought you to me.”

Without waiting for a response, Kado brought his hands to his chest, then swiftly thrust them out and downward. A circle of Light erupted around their feet. Zillah blinked in surprise, looking down.

“What is this?”

“A rift. A way to utilize the Light to restore, energize, or heal,” Kado said, then stepped out of the circle. “I want you to try focusing on something now. Sit, kneel, whatever is most comfortable for you to meditate.”

“I tried that already outside. Didn’t work.”

“Humor me.”

Zillah resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Positioning herself in the center of the circle, she knelt, placing her hands on her thighs. “Now what?”

“Now focus. Think about the Light surrounding you, and then the two items we were just discussing.”

Zillah closed her eyes, concentrating. She did as Kado said, focusing on the Light energy surrounding her, feeling it flow into her. It did feel energizing. Next she tried to think about what he had shown her. The fragment of the Traveler didn’t spark anything, but the Awoken statue was a different story.

She thought about the interplay between the Light and Dark that she had felt, how the two opposing forces existed alongside each other. Supposedly, the Awoken themselves were born from both the Light and Darkness. It wasn’t that different from her now, born of both the Awoken and the Light. Perhaps the two didn’t have to stand in opposition of the other.

A picture formed in her mind then. Two stars, orbiting together around a central point of gravity. Perhaps there was something there in the thought. What if the two powers pulling at her were instead orbiting, working together to create a whole?

What if she was the central point in a binary star system?

The Light of the rift began to fade, and with it the clarity of thought that had emerged. Zillah opened her eyes again, looking at the no longer luminous floor, and felt a strange sense of loss. She had never experienced anything like that before.

“Kado?”

“Yes?”

“Can you show me how you did that?”

“Gladly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually started writing this about a year ago, but set it aside and kind of forgot about it. I was in the mood to write, but didn't have access to my most recent chapter of Sun (which is up to page 4 and will be ready soon). Looking at my laptop, I found the old file I started for this. I wasn't really happy with the direction it was going, so I started it over.
> 
> While working on this, I had to look back at Broken for reference. Doing that, I ended up looking at all the old reviews for this story. Man, I miss my old review crew. If y'all are still alive out there, give a little wave every now and again.


	18. Training Grounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place between A Not so Simple Patrol and When the Sun Winds Down.

Claney Beamard surveyed the group of nine Titans as they stretched and went through warm-up exercises.  They were all newly revived Guardians that he had been tasked with training, and it had mostly gone well.  They each had the making of competent Guardians, much more promising than he had been as a young Guardian. Then again, that was a pretty low bar to cross.  He’d been revived with next to no fighting skills and had nearly shot himself the first time he handled a firearm. Thankfully, he’d come a long way since then.  If this group could make similar strides, they would be quite formidable indeed.

Beside him stood Astrid, a young girl revived as a Titan who had been at the Tower now for some time and spent most of that time with Claney and his adopted daughter, Hunter Celeste Etain.  Astrid watched, fascinated. The young girl had been training in secret and only recently been allowed to compete in the Crucible against other Guardians. Training with other Titans like this was a concept that was somewhat new to her.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, listen up,” Claney called out, drawing the attention of the trainees.  Nine pair of eyes snapped to his location and he struggled not to smile. “Today we’re going to continue training with our Light.  So far we have worked with Arc Light and the Void. Several of you have shown promise in one or the other, and I feel confident that we have the makings of some fine Strikers and Defenders.

“For many years, those were the two disciplines we Titans were confined to.  We all knew about Solar Light, but that was the realm of Hunters and Warlocks.  The reason for this was the exile of the Sunbreakers. Recently, things have changed.  A modicum of peace has been made with the ancient order and the Vanguard, and we have Titans in our ranks utilizing Solar Light once again.  That will be our focus today.

“Unfortunately, Solar Light is something I have not been able to master, so today you will have a guest instructor.  I present to you Astrid.”

Claney gestured to the young Titan who puffed out her chest and put her hands on her hips, looking from one recruit to the other.  A murmur of confusion rose among the nine of them, and one, a dark-haired man named Kieron laughed out loud at the sight of the pint-sized Guardian.  Claney shook his head and sighed.

“Who was that?” Astrid demanded, her hands dropping to her sides.  “Show yourself.”

Kieron raised his hand and stepped forward.  Astrid locked her eyes on him and glowered, which prompted a bemused smile from the man.

“Mind telling me what you found so funny, trainee?”  Claney asked.

“Well, sir,” Kieron sputtered, “you’re not serious, right?”

“Absolutely.  She’s a Guardian and a natural born Sunbreaker.”

“But, she’s a child,” Kieron pointed out, as if that was all that needed to be said.

Claney turned and looked at the young girl and asked her, “Care to demonstrate?”

“With pleasure,” Astrid snarled and stepped into the open space between them and the young Guardians, then pointed a scarred finger from Kieron to the ground in front of her.  “You. Here. Now.”

Kieron looked around at everyone else in the room, bewildered.  He stepped forward with a shrug. When Astrid took up a fighting stance, he gave a laugh that was half nerves, half confusion.  He brought up his arms and shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, but his form was loose and sloppy.

“Begin,” Claney said and took a step back.  The other Titans noticed this and stepped back as well.

Kieron took a lazy step forward and Astrid lashed out with her foot, quick as a snake.  She kicked him in his knee so hard it bent backward and he dropped with a cry of pain. He landed on his other knee, grabbing his wounded leg.  Astrid clenched her fist, drew it back, then punched Kieron in the jaw as hard as she could. His head whipped to the side so hard that it snapped his neck.  

“Did I forget to mention that she racked up a fourteen point oh kill to death ratio in her most recent Crucible match?”  Claney asked. The remaining recruits looked at Astrid, eyes wide.

Moments later, Kieron’s Ghost appeared and resurrected her Guardian.  The new Titan took his fighting stance again, this time taking things more seriously.  His posture was tense and he was focused entirely on the young girl. Astrid glanced at Claney who shrugged, leaving the option to her.

Astrid had barely taken her stance when Kieron attacked, trying to catch her off guard.  He swung at her, fist crackling with Arc energy, but Astrid ducked the blow. Kieron threw several more punches, but Astrid dodged each.  Then Kieron tried a lunging kick, leaving himself open.

The little Titan drew her fist back again, this time the first of Solar Light engulfing the small hand.  She threw a hook punch that caught Kieron right between his legs. There was an audible gasp from the audience, and Kieron screamed as his groin ignited.  Astrid spun away from him and thrust out her hand. There was a sound of metal striking metal and then a flaming hammer appeared in her hand.

She leapt into the air, then flung the hammer down on the burning Titan.  When the hammer struck, it exploded, and lay smoldering on the floor. Astrid landed, another hammer in her hand, a wild grin plastered on her face.

Claney grabbed a fire extinguisher on the wall and doused Kieron.  He spoke to Astrid, “Nice work, Little Bit.”

“I still have a hammer.”

“Noted.”

Kieron’s Ghost resurrected him for a second time.  He blinked and looked around. When he saw Astrid standing there glaring at him, a flaming hammer clenched in her fist, he scrambled backward as quickly as he could, never taking his eyes off the young girl.  

Astrid smirked.

“Does anyone else have an issue with our guest instructor?”  Claney asked. Eight Titans shook their heads in unison. “Good.  Astrid, they’re all yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started a different story, but that one took place after When the Sun Winds Down and would have spoiled plot points. Working on it did help me finalize a few ideas there though, so it wasn't a total waste, and you'll get to read it eventually. I had this idea next and jotted it down.
> 
> As always, Astrid is the property of Korfie.


End file.
